


Villains Don't Get Happy Endings

by lizardmm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 57,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardmm/pseuds/lizardmm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been her sacrifice—the price she had to pay. Save everyone she had cursed for 28 years while simultaneously losing the one person she loved the most. Villains, after all, didn't get a Happy Ending. That was reserved for Princesses and Saviors. A 'what if' story where it's Regina, not Hook, who visits Emma in NYC at the beginning of 3B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back at it! I'm at the halfway point of my next original novel, but these two keep dancing around in my head, bickering and bantering and demanding that this story be written. Updates might be a little slower because I'm simultaneously working on the novel and fanfiction, but hopefully the time between posting chapters won't deter you from following this story.
> 
> A/N2: Let's pretend that at the beginning of 3B, people who try to cross the town line don't get turned into flying monkeys.

**Chapter 1**

_New York, New York_

Regina stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror of her black Mercedes. She told herself that she was only doing this for Henry. There was no harm in checking in on him to make sure he was happy and had everything he would ever want or need. She wouldn't talk to them; she'd keep her distance and no one would ever know she'd been here. They wouldn't even know who she was anyway if either of them spotted her—she'd made sure of that when she'd sent her son away with his birth mother while she broke the curse that sent everyone back to the Enchanted Forest.

It had been her sacrifice—the price she had to pay. Save everyone she had cursed for 28 years in Storybrooke while simultaneously losing the one person she loved the most. Villains, after all, didn't get a Happy Ending. That was reserved for Princesses and Saviors.  
  
Regina lightly slapped her hand against the leather steering column. Even now she couldn't bring herself to hate Emma, even though from the moment the blonde had driven that yellow tin can of a car into her town she'd done nothing but dismantle everything Regina had worked so tirelessly to create for herself. And now Emma possessed the two things Regina wanted the most: a second chance and Henry.  
  
The only good thing to come from the second curse was this window of opportunity. Yes, she couldn't remember the last year of her life, and yes, she had to team up with the insufferable Charmings to figure out how and why they were back in Storybrooke, but it now afforded her this time during which she might see her son again.  
  
Snow had been the one who'd actually suggested it. Even when they'd been banished to the Enchanted Forest, she and David had never faltered in their faith that one day they'd be reunited with their daughter and grandson. That tiny flicker of hope had remained alive even in Regina's blackened heart thanks to Snow's eternal optimism.  
  
It had taken Regina some time, and she'd exhausted nearly all of her resources, but she'd managed to track Emma and Henry down to a modest two-bedroom apartment in New York City. She didn't know why Emma had chosen New York—she'd assumed she would have returned to Boston, the city Henry had first tracked her down to. But maybe the central ingredient in getting a second chance was to completely divorce yourself from your past, even geographically.  
  
Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek and her grip on the steering wheel tightened when she saw her son walking out of the main doors of his school, talking to some boys she recognized as members of his soccer team. He had friends here. That realization alone had nearly made her cry. Even under the original curse, Henry had been an outsider in Storybrooke. That his mother was the formidable mayor and later the Evil Queen hadn't done much for her son's social life.  
  
Emma’s yellow Bug had yet to arrive, so Henry sat down on the concrete steps that led up to his school. Regina slumped down in the driver's seat so she could watch him without being detected. Henry pulled a portable gaming device from his backpack—a mindless toy Regina had only caved into buying him when she'd felt threatened by the novelty of his birth mother's existence. If she'd had her way, Henry would have never known trans fats, high fructose sugar, or violent video games. But he was a teenager now, and teenage boys seemed to run on those things.  
  
Too much time passed, and Regina began to grow angry. She hadn't given up Henry only for him to be forgotten at school. Emma was late. She always picked Henry up from school on her way home from a small bail bondsperson office near Central Park. Regina began to plan the verbal lashing she would give Miss Swan whenever she decided to show up. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard— _if_ Emma ever showed up.  
  
When she returned her attention back to Henry, the boy was stashing his Game Boy into his backpack and slinging the bag over one shoulder. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey wool jacket and began to walk.  
  
Regina's eyes followed her son as he began the trek home. "Henry," she chastised aloud, "do you really think you're going to walk all the way home by yourself in one of the most dangerous cities in all the realms?" She shook her head. "No. You most certainly are not."  
  
She grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and threw her car keys inside. She regarded her reflection once more in the rearview mirror. "Stay far enough away,” she couched herself, “and he'll never know you were here."

The heels of her designer boots clicked on the concrete. The sidewalks were filled with young professionals on their way home from work, forcing Regina to dodge and weave around clusters of people to keep up with Henry's brisk walk. Henry continued to play his game console as he walked. He barely looked up from the screen as he traveled the busy New York sidewalks. Regina could have been walking next to him and he wouldn’t have even noticed, she mused to herself.

She had to admit there was a certain charm to this city in wintertime. The sun was starting to set, and young trees filled with tiny white twinkle lights lined either side of the street. She buried her hands deeper into the pockets of her wool trench coat and tucked her chin into her chest to stave off a brisk wind.

Henry made a right turn down a narrow alley—a short cut perhaps. A frown came to Regina's painted lips. It appeared as though they were in a moderately safe neighborhood, but the detour seemed to invite unnecessary trouble. This wasn't Storybrooke.

Regina jerked to a stop when she saw Henry had stopped. A man, tall and broad shoulders, stood in her son’s way. He wore a black knit cap and a grey hooded sweatshirt. Regina hastened her step. She didn’t like the look of the man or that he was talking to Henry. As she closed the distance, she could hear their conversation.

“Hand it over, kid. You don’t wanna get hurt over some toy. Your Mommy and Daddy will buy you a new one.”

“No they will not.”

It took Regina a moment to recognize the bold voice as her own.

Both Henry and the man turned in Regina’s direction. The man’s eyes narrowed. “Keep walkin’ lady. This ain’t your business,” he said in a thick New York accent.

“I’m afraid it’s very much my business,” Regina returned coolly.

She pulled a gloved hand out of her jacket pocket. She held her hand palm up and her fingers curled. But nothing happened. No fireball hovered over her hand. There was no magic in this place.

Regina looked up in alarm.  
  
The man chuckled darkly. "Looks like I get two bags for the price of one. Hand it over, sister."  
  
Regina took mental inventory of the possessions in her purse as she clutched it tightly against her chest. The keys to her Mercedes, still parked outside of Henry's school. Her wallet and credit cards. A tube of her favorite lipstick. Her cell phone. The keycard to her hotel room in Manhattan.

“Take my Game Boy,” Henry said. He shoved the handheld devise into the man’s hands. “You don’t need to steal from her, too.”

Even without magic, Regina refused to be afraid. She had leveled a kingdom, destroyed whole cities, and brought powerful men to their knees. There was no way a common thief was going to get the upper hand on the Evil Queen. She pulled herself to her full height and lifted a defiant chin.

“I suggest _you_ keep walking and leave us be,” she challenged the man. She took a daring step forward. Her heels sounded like gunshots on the pavement.

Regina cried out when the man lunged forward and snatched the purse from her grip. She heard a tearing noise as the handle of her bag ripped out of her hands.

“You idiot!” she growled. “You unwashed imbecile!” Anger bubbled just beneath the surface. She would destroy this man, magic or not.

"Stop right there."  
  
Regina froze at the familiar voice. The threatening man did as well.  
  
Emma Swan stood at the entrance of the alley with her long legs a shoulder’s width apart. The ridiculous red leather jacket was gone, but the skin-tight jeans tucked into brown leather boots were the same. She trained her gun on the would-be mugger. "Drop it," she barked.  
  
"Let's not do anything crazy," the man said, slowly raising his arms up.  
  
"Then drop the purse," Emma's voice rose in pitch and in annoyance.  
  
The failed thief underhanded the purse in Emma's direction. When she lowered her weapon to catch the flying bag, the mugger ran off while her attention was otherwise preoccupied.  
  
"He's getting away!" Henry yelled.  
  
Emma's body twitched with indecision. Her training as a bail bondsperson told her to run after the bad guy, but her maternal instinct demanded she stay put. Henry was here, and he was safe, and that was all that mattered.  
  
"It's okay," she settled on. "Let him go."  
  
Henry threw his arms around Emma's waist. "Ma! This lady tried to save me from being mugged!" He hesitated and looked momentarily thoughtful. "And then you saved her!"  
  
Emma regarded the dark-haired woman. "You did that?" she asked in wonder. "You tried to help my son?"  
  
"I was just in the right place at the right time." Regina cast her eyes to the pavement. It was hard for her to look Emma or Henry in the eyes and not see any recognition reflected there. "Anyone would have done the same."  
  
"Not in this city," Emma observed with a snort. "You could be bleeding out in the middle of Times Square and be hard pressed to find someone willing to help. Thank you."  
  
Regina finally looked up and instantly regretted it. She bit the inside of her lower lip. Emma's green-eyed stare had her frozen to the concrete. "You're welcome."

Emma looked down at the designer purse now safe in her hands. "I never understood these things. It's like walking around with a flashing neon sign. 'Come rob me! I have money!'"

Regina stiffened, but didn't say anything. She could get away with scathing banter with Emma Swan, the Sheriff of Storybrooke, but not this woman. They were strangers to one another, and strangers didn't banter, she had to remind herself.

“What were you thinking taking on a mugger on your own?” Emma challenged.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem doing the same,” Regina countered.

“Yeah, but I’m armed, and I deal with scum like that guy every day."

Regina shrugged, helpless without an answer that wouldn’t mess everything up. “I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

"Where were you?" Henry prodded his birthmother, interrupting the rapid back and forth. "You didn't pick me up from school. I had to walk."  
  
"I know, kid. I'm sorry.” Emma raked her fingers through her blonde waves. “I was late getting out of a meeting at the precinct."  
  
"Why didn't you call?" Regina winced when she realized she'd inserted herself into the conversation. She pressed her lips together. She kept speaking out loud without meaning to.  
  
"He doesn't have a cell phone," Emma said, warily eyeballing the curious woman.  
  
"He doesn't?"  
  
"No. I'm of the mindset that I'd rather my son pay attention to his surroundings than stare all day at a screen."

“Then perhaps the gaming device wasn’t a savvy purchase,” Regina pointed out.

Emma snatched the portable gaming device out of her son’s hands. “He’s not supposed to be walking and playing this thing. Henry,” she hissed, “how many times have I told you about that?”

The boy hung his head and his hair, which was longer than Regina remembered, fell into his eyes. “Sorry, Ma."

Emma's phone chirped in the back pocket of her jeans. She silenced it after looking at the screen.  
  
"Was that Walsh?" Henry asked.  
  
"Yeah. I'll call him back later," Emma noted absently.  
  
"Who's Walsh?" Regina found herself asking.  
  
"My mom's boyfriend," Henry interjected.

Regina sucked in a sharp breath that she hoped Emma didn't hear. It had been a year. Of course Emma would have found someone. That's what people did when they had a second chance, even if they weren't conscious that they had been given one.  
  
"He's not—" Emma cut herself off. She and the furniture salesman had been dating for the better part of eight months. She didn't know why she had such a problem with labels like “boyfriend.” Yes she did, she mentally chided herself. _Neal._ _Her parents._ When you gave someone a title, it gave them power to hurt you. There was only one significant label in her life—her son.

“We’re having breakfast for dinner tonight,” Henry chirped. “You should come.”

Regina swallowed down her surging hope and joy. It felt like an ambush on her emotions. 

“I’m sure she’s got better things to do, Henry,” Emma mumbled.

“I really don’t.” Regina felt a pink blush dust the apples of her cheeks. Her traitorous mouth was at it again. If she had had access to magic, she’d remove her own tongue.

“Oh, well, uh, do you … do you want to have dinner with us tonight?” Emma stammered. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for coming to Henry’s aid.”

Regina looked between Henry and his birthmother. She could tell Emma was only extending the invitation because Henry had done so first and she couldn’t take it back without being rude. She didn’t want a pity invitation, but it was more time with Henry before she had to go back to Storybrooke.

Finally, she flashed a practiced, painted smile. “I’d love to come to dinner.”

+++

TBC

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!

Chapter 2

She'd faced countless challenges throughout her life and overcome every challenge with her special kind of determinism. Some might have even labeled it as obsession. But for perhaps the first time in her adult life, she was hesitating.

Regina stared up at the high-rise apartment complex and released a long, nervous breath. She'd driven by the building many times and had parked in front of it just as many. But as many times as she'd imagined pressing the call button to Henry and Emma's apartment, she'd never believed it would actually happen.

"Just go inside," she mumbled to herself. "Stop making excuses and go inside."

Her legs started to move, one foot in front of the other, until she was striding confidently across the street and smiling graciously at the uniformed doorman who held the front doors open for her entrance. Inside the apartment's front foyer, mailboxes lined the walls. Positioned near the last remaining barrier to the building--a final locked door--was a panel that listed the last name and apartment number for each resident. Regina looked for the name 'Swan,' but the space next to the apartment number she knew belonged to Emma Swan was blank.

"Old habits die hard," she murmured to herself.

Before she could second-guess her decision to accept Henry's dinner invitation, she pressed the white button next to the appropriate apartment number and waited.

“Who is it?” a voice crackled out.

Regina leaned toward the small speaker. “It’s Regina.”

“Who?”

Regina rolled her eyes. Emma Swan was as obnoxious as ever. “The woman who tried to save your son from a mugger earlier today?”

“Oh. Right.” The main door buzzed unlocked. “Eleventh floor, last door on the right.”

Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek as she waited for the elevator to arrive on the eleventh floor. When Emma had provided her with directions to the apartment, she’d had to pretend to write the address in her phone. She already knew where they lived, but she was eager to see inside of the two-bedroom apartment.

The elevator reached the eleventh floor in what Regina thought was record time. She stepped into the empty hallway, which smelled strongly of curry. The heels of her stilettos were muffled by the thin carpeting that covered the floor as she made her way down the hallway and stopped in front of the last door on the right.

Regina sighed. So many doors, so many barriers, each offering her an opportunity to flee. She heard movement on the other side of the door, and before she could even knock, the door was tugged open.

“Hey,” Emma breathed in greeting.

Regina stood in the doorway, momentarily frozen with disorientation. Emma's hair was pulled back in a messy bun, away from her face, which had the affect of accentuating her cheekbones. She wore chunky black-rimmed glasses perched on her button nose, and a striped cotton apron protected the clothes she'd worn that day from whatever was producing magnificent scents coming from inside of the apartment. Pancake batter seemed to be splattered on the apron and a light dusting of the powdered mixture streaked her cheeks.

"You coming in?" Emma asked. She pushed a loose stand of hair away from her face.

Regina blinked once. When had she started wearing glasses? She'd never noticed contacts before. "Of course, yes."

She stepped through the doorway and took a moment to regain her bearings. The apartment was small, but clean and bright. The appliances in the kitchen were stainless steel and the recessed lighting provided the midtown apartment with a warm glow. There wasn't a proper dining room, but a table in the corner of the living area, plus the kitchen island was more than enough space as long as Emma didn't host elaborate dinner parties. Art hung on the walls and post-it notes and other reminders were on the refrigerator, giving the impression that life happened here.  
Regina pressed a carton of orange juice into Emma's waiting hands. “Normally I’d bring a bottle of wine for the hostess,” she explained, “but I thought this might be more appropriate with dinner.”

Emma held the orange juice container like it was a bottle of fine wine. “Thanks. This is great," she warmly smiled.

The TV was on in the open-plan living room and Henry's back was to the front door, playing some military video game Regina never would have allowed, especially knowing someone was coming over for dinner. The sounds of yelling and rapid gunshots streamed through the surround-sound stereo system.

"Kid," Emma barked over the violent noise. "Turn that thing off. We have company."

Regina allowed herself a small, private smile. Maybe Emma wasn't entirely without propriety. She heard the quiet grumble of her son, but with no more argument, he shut off the game and the television.

"Hey," Henry beamed, bounding toward the front door. "You made it!"

Regina felt awkward standing in the front foyer with her jacket still on, but Henry's effervescent smile made it all worth it. "Of course,” she gently smiled. “It would have been rude to turn down a dinner invitation."

"Can I take your coat?" he offered, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It was something he'd done nearly the moment he'd learned how to walk, like there was too much energy in his little body.

“Yes, thank you.” Regina shrugged out of the wool trench and handed it over to the boy who seemed even taller than when she’d seen him earlier that afternoon. Henry opened a closet door and hung the jacket up inside.

Now without her jacket, Regina brushed at the front of her skirt. She hadn't known what to wear for the occasion, but the only clothes she's brought with her were of the mayoral variety. Her wardrobe was limited and in the end she'd settled on a patterned pencil skirt and button-up blouse whose dark blue color she wasn't too modest to admit made the dark hue of her hair practically iridescent.

Emma had retreated back into the kitchen and continued to attend to the food on the stovetop burners. Regina could detect the scent of bacon in the air, although she couldn't see any. Hashbrowns sizzled in a giant saucepan and a griddle on the kitchen island awaited the pancake batter sitting beside it in a mixing bowl.

"Can I help with something?" Regina asked, following the blonde into the kitchen. She leaned against the kitchen island and urged her heart to stop pounding so loudly in her chest.

"I've got it covered," Emma insisted. "Besides, what kind of hostess would I be if I put you to work?" She opened the oven door and grabbed a cookie sheet from the top shelf. The scent of bacon became more pronounced as Emma pulled out the cooking sheet layered with sizzling meat.

Henry immediately reached for one of the still too hot pieces of bacon, only to have Emma playfully slap the top of his hand. "Nuh uh, kid. Why don't you go set the table?"

"Okay." Henry hung his head, properly chastised. Regina resisted the urge to push the long hair away from her son's forehead. Her fingers flexed at her side with inactivity.

Regina watched fondly after the boy as he went to his task without any protest.

"So what's your story?" Emma asked.

Regina jerked her gaze away from the brown-haired teen. "Story?" she echoed, training her eyes instead on the woman in the kitchen.

"Yeah. Are you in the habit of accepting dinner invitations from strangers in dark alleyways?"

Regina bristled, unprepared for the question. She felt woefully unprepared for everything about this meal. "There's no story. I-I just didn't want to be rude and turn down the invitation," she repeated her explanation.

Emma pointed the spatula in her hand at Regina. "You're not from around here, are you? First the attempt to save my son when you should have ignored his being mugged, and now worrying about being rude. That's not typical New Yorker behavior."

"You're right. I'm in town for business." She hadn't thought much about constructing a believable backstory since she'd never planned on coming face-to-face with either of her current dinner companions.

"Where are you visiting from?"

"I'm sure you've never heard of it," Regina dismissed with a flick of her hair. "It's a tiny town in Maine."

Emma flashed the other woman a disarming smile. "Try me. I might surprise you."

Regina hesitated only briefly. "Storybrooke, Maine."

Emma slowly blinked. "Storybrooke." She let the syllables roll over her tongue.

Regina sucked in a sharp breath. Did Emma remember? Had the name of the tiny coastal town jogged her memory?

Emma shook her head. "You're right. Never heard of it."

Regina released the breath she'd been holding. She couldn't name the emotion rumbling around in the pit of her stomach. Relief? Disappointment? Or maybe she was just hungry.

"So what about you? What's your story? Are you in the habit of inviting strangers into your home for dinner?" Regina asked, shaking off her confusing reaction.

"No." Emma ducked her head in an endearing way that reminded Regina of Henry. "But technically it's breakfast."

Regina licked her painted lips. "True."

"Table's ready," Henry announced.

"Everything smells delicious, Emma.” Honestly when she’d heard ‘breakfast for dinner,’ she had been expecting Eggos and cold cereal.

"I've got a few skills." Emma shrugged, but she looked pleased by the compliment.

"You should try her apple turnover,” Henry chimed in. “It's amazing."

The corner of Regina's painted smile twitched. "Apple turnover?" Her voice nearly cracked.

"It's kind of like a pop tart,” Emma explained.

Regina wanted to snap that she knew what an apple turnover was, but like every other instinct she had around this version of Emma Swan, she swallowed it down and smiled weakly instead.

"It sounds delicious."

+++

The tears started the moment Regina shut the door of her hotel room. She'd done admirably she thought, reigning in her emotions through dinner, the awkward goodbye as she put her coat on, wanting to hug Henry, but settling on a handshake instead, and through the long taxi ride from Emma's apartment back to her rented room.

Jacket and scarf still on, but now alone with her emotions, she could finally let the walls she'd built up crumble down.

She didn't have time for the tears streaming down her powdered cheeks to turn into body shaking sobs before her cell phone started to ring. Blind with grief, she wiped at her eyes so she could make out the number and who would be calling. But she already knew; only one person had this number.

"What do you want?" she barked into the phone.

She heard the sharp intake of air on the other line, and she instantly regretted losing her cool. Regina raked a shaky hand through her raven hair. "Hello, Snow."

“Regina, you have to come back.”

“I’m not ready yet," she stubbornly protested.

Snow sighed into the phone. “I don’t like it. You don’t know what too much time outside of Storybrooke will do under this second curse.”

Regina had been the only one who’d dared to cross the town line since she had been the only one from the Enchanted Forest not affected by the original curse. No one else had trusted what might happen if they crossed the line under the second curse.

“I’m being careful,” Regina snapped, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"I don't care how careful you're being," Snow said, her voice rising to meet Regina's challenging tone. "The plan was to make sure they were okay and then come home."

"I know what the plan is--was--. But Emma has memories I didn't intend to give her."

"What?"

"At dinner tonight, Henry said--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Snow interrupted. "At dinner? We agreed you wouldn't talk to them. You're supposed to be observing from afar, Regina, not having dinner with them."

"Technically it was breakfast for dinner," Regina mumbled.

"You know what I mean!" Snow exclaimed. "Even though their memories have been altered, what you're doing is dangerous! You of all people know how unpredictable magic can be."

"Exactly. Which is why I need more time. The spell reacted in ways I didn't expect. I need to make sure that Henry will be okay."

“How is she?”

Regina shut her eyes. She could hear the trepidation in Snow’s voice. “She's good. Really good.”

“Really?” Snow’s voice sounded damp.

Regina sighed deeply. “They both seem very happy. I think we did our children right for once, Snow. We gave them their best chance.”

Regina could hear the tears over the phone line. “Thank you for that, Regina.”

“I have to go,” she said briskly, cutting the call short. She and Snow White weren’t friends. They had too much history to ever be friends.

++

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all. I’m back! Thanks so much for your patience between updates as I finished up my latest novel, Fragmented. You can find more information about it and my other original releases at my website, elizalentzski.com.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this update. Let me know your thoughts!

**Chapter 3**

After hanging up with Snow, Regina went through her nightly rituals to prepare for bed. She pulled her hair away from her face with an elastic headband, washed away the makeup from the day, and brushed and flossed her teeth. She had remained untouched by Father Time for decades. Now, unprotected by the curse, Time was the only thing she feared these days. She should have enjoyed more vices when she had the chance, she thought to herself.

Outside of her hotel room on the thirty-first floor, New York was still abuzz with activity. Even from this elevated level, she could hear the sounds of the city below: the annoyed honk of a taxi cab, the random cheer of a group of people. Through the blinds she could still make out the flashing lights of Time Square reflecting off the mirrored exterior of adjacent skyscrapers.

Once in bed, Regina stared up at the ceiling. Her mind was too busy for sleep. Now that she had made direct contact with Emma and Henry, all of the words of warning Snow and David had hammered into her head were re-surfacing. They had entrusted her to cross the town line to check in on their respective children, but she wasn’t supposed to have had pancakes with them. The Charmings should have known better than to trust her with this.

The temptation to spend more stolen time with Henry had been too great, however, and she’d never had a particular talent for denying herself that which she desired. But magic always came with a price; re-connecting with her son would have consequences.

In the morning there was something she had to do. It would be unpleasant, and if Emma ever found out … Well, she wouldn't worry about that now. The only thing that mattered was Henry. She pulled the comforter under her chin and willed herself to sleep.

+++

She hadn't known what exactly she'd been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. Natural light flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the two-story Williamsburg furniture store. The stately brick building had once been a factory of some kind at the turn of the century, but it had been gutted since then, and now featured custom, handmade furniture.

Regina ran her lacquered fingernails along the polished curve of an elaborate wooden dining room chair. Living in the Enchanted Forest, she had come into contact with talented wood workers. Her own taste for interior design and decor was impeccable like everything she did. Whomever had crafted the furniture on display had real talent. It was too bad that person turned out to be Emma Swan's boyfriend.

A simple internet search for New York, furniture, and Walsh had provided Regina with the directions to an Oscar Walsh's furniture store. Regina had discovered that the man who went by his last name was a skilled artisan, but what kind of man was he? Armed with a pencil skirt, red-soled stilettos, and a fitted dress shirt unbuttoned to the third button, it was Regina's intention to find out.

"Can I help you?"

Regina looked up from the wooden chair and pasted on a dazzling smile. "I certainly hope so."

Oscar Walsh wasn't much to look at. Tall, angular, narrow shouldered, and gaunt in the face, he looked more like a scarecrow than a man. _Really, Miss Swan? Out of the million partners available in this city and this is with whom you've chosen to align yourself?_

Given she and Emma's mutual attraction to Graham, Regina had assumed they had comparable taste in men. Perhaps the fake memories Regina had magicked into Emma's brain had scattered her taste in men.

Regina stuck out her hand. "Regina Mills," she introduced herself.

Walsh took her hand in his boney, long-fingered one. "Oscar Walsh. It's nice to meet you. What can I help you find today?"

Regina twisted her mouth into a helpless look. "I'm in the market for an office desk, but I have very particular tastes."

Walsh shoved his hands into the front pockets of his corduroy pants and rocked back on his heels. "We have a good variety on the second floor, but if none of them strikes your fancy, we could always custom design something."

"Custom?" Regina echoed. "Who does all your custom work?"

"Me. This is my store, and I do all the construction and design myself."

Regina clasped her hands together. "That's quite impressive."

Walsh ducked his head, and shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes. Regina frowned at the modest reaction. This was no man. This was a foolish boy. Certainly not a strong father-figure for her son.

"Would you have time to show me what's available?" Regina asked, sure to flutter her long eyelashes. "I'd love to get the tour from the man who actually made all of these beautiful things."

"Of course." Walsh bobbed his head. "They're on the second floor." He swept his hand in a guiding gesture. "Right this way."

Regina's high heels clicked on the flooring on the way to the escalator. She could hear the rubber soles of Walsh's step behind her.

"This is an impressive operation," Regina observed over one shoulder. She tried to keep an open mind about the man, but she couldn't understand what Emma saw in the understated man. Compared to the lovers Regina had taken to bed in her days as Queen, Walsh wouldn't have been on her radar.

"Thanks."

"Not too many people nowadays say they want to make furniture when they grow up," Regina remarked as they ascended the escalator together. "How did you get into the business?"

"I suppose it kind of fell into my lap," Walsh shrugged. "I've been doing it for so long, it's hard to pinpoint the origin."

Regina made a humming noise and pretended to inspect the available merchandise on the second floor although she had no intention of actually buying anything. Under different context she might have been tempted, but it wasn't as though a delivery truck would have been able to navigate its way into Storybrooke now with the second curse in place.

She frowned at the memory. Surrounded by the sights and sounds of New York, it was too easy to forget that she had a mystery to solve when she returned. What had happened to their missing year? Why couldn't she remember? And how come they were back in Storybrooke?

Regina ran her hand along the smooth, level plane of a mahogany desk. "Very nice," she approved. "I love a man with skilled hands." She spun on her heel abruptly, nearly bumping into the man following closely behind her. "It's so rare to find nowadays. Everyone is so reliant on computers and robots."

A lopsided grin came to Walsh's face. "You won't find any of that stuff in my workshop."

"Oh, I'd love to see where you work." She flicked the tip of her tongue against her bottom lip. "I'm sure it's absolutely fascinating."

"It's not that interesting; just a bunch of old tools."

_You're the only Tool I currently see._

"So what do you think?" Walsh asked. "See anything you like?"

"I see potential," Regina purred. She deliberately dragged her eyes up and down the man's body, repressing a shudder as she did so. "But like I said—I have particular tastes."

"Could I interest you in custom work?” he asked. “Maybe we could go over some ideas for a design?"

Regina frowned, nearly pouting. “Would you be available to meet with me after hours? I'm not in town for very long, and I have a very busy schedule."

"I, uh, I don't usually—"

Regina cut him off. "I'll make it worth your while," she said, grabbing onto his skinny bicep. "My hotel has a lovely penthouse bar. Very cozy. Why don't we meet there later and put our heads together on this?" She didn't let go of Walsh's arm. "Oh my," she gushed. "Your arm is rock solid."

"I, uh, it's from the wood working."

"Oh, from what I've seen, I'm sure you know how to handle that wood." This was ridiculous. "Say you'll meet me later."

"I, um, yeah. I could do that."

"Fantastic. I'll see you there, around eight." She squeezed his bicep once more for good measure. "Don't keep me waiting, Mr. Walsh."

A wide grin adorned the man's face, and he eagerly nodded his head.

Regina flipped her hair out of her eyes and made her way towards the furniture store's exit. She didn't have to look back to know that Walsh was watching her and the slight sway of her hips and backside as she left.

He was, after all, only a man.

+++

Regina dialed the ten-digit number into her phone and waited for the call to be picked up.

“Emma Swan, here.”

“Miss Swan? This is Regina Mills—“

“Regina. Hi.” Emma laughed on the other line. “Are you always so formal?”

“Usually, yes,” she admitted.

“What can I do for you?” Emma asked. “Need me to track down some scumbag who owes you money?”

"Nothing as exciting as that, I’m afraid. Would you be free to meet me for a drink later? I know it's probably an inconvenience of me to even be asking, but I've had a long day of meetings, and I really don't like the idea of drinking by myself."

"Henry's good to watch himself for a little while. I suppose I could slip away for a drink while he's doing homework."

"That would be lovely. I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with this city yet though. How about meeting me at the bar in my hotel?"

She clutched her phone and awaited Emma's reply.

+++

Regina had chosen the Manhattan hotel for its proximity to Henry’s school and the apartment he shared with his birth mother. It also happened to have a lovely rooftop bar and lounge that was open through all the seasons. The bar was partitioned in half with one section open air and the other part a glass-enclosed lounge. In the current winter chill, all of the fire pits were aflame and portable heaters dotted the square footage of the penthouse bar. Taking advantage of the numerous fireplaces and other fire features, Regina sat at a small table, nursing an apple martini. It was no cider, but it was alcohol, and it settled her nerves as she clock watched.

A flash of blonde caught her attention and she watched Emma Swan make an appearance. Their eyes locked, and Emma waved in her direction. Unbidden, Regina found herself smiling and waving back.

Regina couldn’t ignore the carefree look on Emma’s face as she crossed the rooftop to join her. Without the unbearable weight of the Hero Complex, the blonde looked years younger. And Henry had looked so happy and content with his new life and memories, she’d wanted to pull out her own heart to not feel the pain of it. She was happy, naturally, that he was so well settled in his new life, but she couldn’t deny the sadness that came from knowing she hadn’t been able to provide that same level of joy for him when he’d lived in Storybrooke with her.

“This is awfully fancy,” Emma observed in lieu of a proper greeting as she took in their surroundings. “What exactly is it that you do?”

"Politics. I'm the mayor of a small town in Maine."

"Mayor?" Emma whistled lowly. "You've been holding out on me. You should have told me I was in the presence of royalty."

"Storybrooke is very small,” Regina dismissed. “It's really not a big deal."

“Storybrooke? That sounds made up.”

“I can assure you it’s very much a real place.”

Regina admired the view when Emma removed her black wool coat to reveal the sapphire blue dress hidden beneath. It was a far cry from the tight jeans, leather boots, and Henley tops she was more accustomed to seeing her sheriff in. Her hair also looked more curly than usual and there was a touch of red on her lips.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Regina admired. “The color matches your eyes.”

Emma looked down at her body as though she’d forgotten she was wearing the outfit. “Yeah, well when you told me where you were staying, I thought I should clean up a bit.”

Regina’s gaze traveled down Emma’s body from her confined breasts, down her tight abdomen, and swept across how the dress’s material clung to Emma’s hips.

“You clean up well,” Regina murmured.

Regardless of her personal distaste for Emma Swan over the years, Regina could admit the other woman’s body was enviable. More upsetting was the transfat and cholesterol Emma routinely ingested, without it adversely affecting her figure.

She raised a hand and a waiter arrived at her elbow. “What are you having? Scotch? Whiskey?”

“Uh, no.” Emma snatched the laminated drink menu off the tabletop and gave it a cursory scan. “I thought maybe I’d go for a cabernet.”

“I’m sorry.” Regina frowned. “I don’t know why I thought you were a bourbon drinker.” She could have sworn hard alcohol, not wine, was Emma Swan’s drink of choice.

“I’m a little rough around the edges, I know,” Emma laughed. She self-consciously touched her curled locks. “Don’t let the gun and hard exterior fool you though, I’m all girl.”

Regina cleared her throat. "Well thank you again for meeting up with me, Miss Swan. I really do hope I'm not putting you out."

"It's still just Emma,” the blonde woman gently corrected. “And you're not putting me out at all. I'm actually glad you called. I can't remember the last time I was out with an adult."

"What about your boyfriend? Walsh, was it?"

"I said 'adult,'" Emma said with a cheeky grin. "Walsh is a great guy, but all the men I've ever dated seem to have a Peter Pan Complex."

"They don't want to grow up," Regina hummed.

"What about you?" Emma asked. "Are you married? Boyfriend?"

Regina shook her head. "No. I'm very much single."

"Who's the as whole who broke your heart?"

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I recognize that look when I asked if you were married," Emma said. "There was a guy once, but now there's not. So who broke your heart?"

Regina wet her lips and worked to keep her tone even and unaffected. "I can assure you my heart is very much in one piece."

Emma grinned and leaned back in her chair. "Suit yourself, but I know you're not telling me the complete truth. I can tell when people are lying."

"Your Super Power," Regina said without thinking.

Emma chuckled. "That's funny. That's exactly what I call it. Weird."

Regina swallowed hard. She hoped Emma wouldn't dwell on her slip up or catch her in a lie. "That must be quite the gift. I wish I could tell when people were lying."

"It's been a necessity over the years. Before Walsh came along, it was just me and Henry for a long time. Lots of assholes in the world who would like to take advantage of a single mom and her kid. I had to be vigilant. Henry's the most important thing in my life." Emma's cheeks colored. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away.”

"Don't apologize." Regina smiled warmly. "Your commitment and dedication to Henry is admirable."

"Do you have any kids?"

Regina dropped her gaze to the table and fiddled with the glass stem of her funnel-shaped drink. "Once upon a time."

The other woman must have sensed she'd stumbled onto uncomfortable territory, so she quickly changed the subject. "So how long are you in town for?"

Regina looked back up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "I'm really not sure. I had thought it would be a quick business trip, but circumstances have changed that will be keeping me in this city for a little longer. I'm glad you could meet up with me tonight, though. I was worried you'd be busy."

Emma snorted. "Where else would I be on a Tuesday night? Henry's got school in the morning."

"You could have been out with your boyfriend," Regina pointed out. She didn’t like the way the final word caught in her throat.

"Naw, he's catching up on paperwork for his business tonight."

"Paperwork. Hmmm." Regina leaned forward, feigning interest. "He owns a furniture store, is that correct?"

"Yeah. That's how we met. Henry and I had just moved to town, and I needed to furnish our apartment.” Her eyes focused on something or someone just beyond Regina’s right shoulder. “Speak of the devil,” Emma murmured.

"What was that, dear?"

Emma raised her voice. “Walsh?”

The stick-thin man who'd been standing at a distance and scanning the rooftop, jerked his gaze in the direction of the voice. “Emma!”

“What are you doing here? I thought you had to work tonight?” she called to him.

“I-I…” Regina felt the man’s eyes fall on her. His features scrunched in confusion, and Regina raised an eyebrow while her painted lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“I got done early,” he said. “I wanted to surprise you; Henry said I’d find you here.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I didn’t tell Henry where I’d be?”

Walsh scratched at the back of his neck, looking all the world like he wanted to disappear. “You didn’t? Huh. That kid must be an even better detective than you.”

"What’s with the fancy duds?" Emma prodded. "Did I forget an anniversary or something?”

Walsh tugged at his suit jacket. “No. I had a meeting today.” The man had changed clothes from earlier that day. Gone was the denim shirt and corduroy, replaced with a fitted suit. He wore no tie around his neck, and the dress shirt was open at the throat.

“With the President?” Emma questioned.

Regina leaned back in her chair and smiled. For once it was nice not being the recipient of Sheriff Swan’s Twenty Questions. Her skepticism had made her superb at her job, and Regina felt not an ounce of sympathy for the furniture store owner.

“You’re a bit overdressed yourself,” Walsh returned.

“Only because I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb in this place,” Emma defended.

“Well maybe I was doing the same,” her boyfriend deflected.

As much as Regina was enjoying the animated back and forth, she didn’t enjoy being ignored. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she interrupted.

Walsh’s gaze snapped to land on her face. “What?”

“Regina,” she said coolly, extending her hand. “Regina Mills.”

Walsh carefully took the pro-offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Regina. I'm Walsh. Emma's boyfriend.” Not taking his eyes off the raven-haired woman, he grabbed a nearby chair. “Mind if I join you ladies?” The legs scratched against the concrete of the rooftop flooring. Regina winced at the ugly sound as the man positioned himself between Emma and herself.

“So what’s the story here?” he asked, briskly rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“I was meeting Regina here for an after-work drink,” Emma said, returning to her own seat.

“How do you two know each other? I don’t believe I’ve heard you mention a ‘Regina’ before.”

“We don’t know each other,” Regina supplied. “Not really.”

Walsh’s heavy eyebrows bunched together.

“Henry was nearly mugged on his way home from school yesterday,” Emma stated. “Regina intercepted before anything bad could happen.”

“Stop. You make me sound like a super hero,” Regina chuckled in her low rasp.

“The way you confronted that guy in the alley, I nearly thought you had super powers. You should have seen her,” Emma said. “Jimmy Choos and a Prada bag, thinking she could take on some punk from Brooklyn.”

Walsh pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I nearly missed it, too. If I’d shown up on time, Henry wouldn’t have been in that alley,” Emma said glumly.

Regina rested her hand on top of Emma’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, dear,” she soothed. "Henry's fine.”

“I need a drink,” Walsh blurted out. He stood up, nearly toppling his chair over. "I'll be back."

"O-o-k," Emma said, a pale eyebrow rising on her forehead. “Yeah, so that’s Walsh,” she sighed, her eyes following her retreating boyfriend.

Regina leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “He seems charming.”

“Usually more so,” Emma noted, her eyes still tracking Walsh who now stood at the inside bar, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

"If you'll excuse me," Regina said as she stood from the table. "I'm just going to freshen up in the powder room."

Regina was privately pleased at how flustered Emma’s boyfriend was behaving. She had sought the man out that morning to ascertain if he was good enough to be in Henry's life, but based on her interactions with him today and his arrival at the hotel bar, she was going to make it her mission to split up the happy couple.

Regina spotted Emma's paramour near the bar's bathrooms. She saw the man's barely checked anger simmered just beneath the surface. Regina knew that look well. It was her own anger from which her magic stemmed. She tilted her chin up and drew back her shoulders, readying a biting insult.

She had expected backlash from the man for her subterfuge, but not physical aggression. His palms connected flat against her shoulders and she found herself being shoved against a wall. She made a noise of protest as the back of her head and her backside smacked against a wall.

Walsh leaned in menacingly, so close Regina could count the freckles on his nose. "I haven't figured out what your game is, lady, but I'm on to you."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Regina feigned ignorance.

“We’ll see about that.” His eyes flashed a neon green. Regina thought at first it was a trick of light, but immediately suspected something was amiss. "Stay away from Emma," Walsh growled menacingly, "whoever you are."

Regina straightened her shoulders and tugged at the bottom of her blazer. "I believe that's up for Emma to decide, not you."

The man looked like he had more to say, but thinking better of it, he snarled and turned on his heel in a hasty exit.

In her own realm or in Storybrooke, fear was not an emotion Regina permitted. But in this place without magic, she realized just how vulnerable she was. She'd been physically accosted twice in this city in as many days. Snow and Charming had urged her to be efficient with her time beyond the town boundary, but her stubborn pride had gotten in the way of her taking their words of caution seriously.

When she had composed herself, Regina returned to the table to find Emma sitting alone with their empty glasses.

"What happened to your boyfriend?" Regina asked with mock innocence, taking an empty chair beside the other woman. "Don't tell me he had to cut his evening short."

Emma frowned and swirled the dregs of her drink in the bottom of her wine glass. "He left. It's okay though. He was acting weird."

"Oh dear. I hope there's no problems in paradise." Fake genuineness wrapped around Regina like an old friend.

"Paradise." Emma laughed ruefully and shook her head. "Honestly I wonder sometimes why I even bother. It's always just been me and Henry, and we like it that way." She paused and ran her finger along the rim of her glass. "Although it can be lonely when your only company is a teenaged boy."

Regina knew that only too well, but she had no way to verbally commiserate without risking revealing too much.

"Sorry," Emma apologized and shook her head. "This probably isn't the evening you had in mind when you invited me."

"Quite the opposite, my dear, but you saved me from another night of mindless television." She cocked her head to one side when she saw Emma's lips moving, but heard no words. "What's that?"

Emma's parted lips moved again. "I'm your savior."

"I-I guess so."

Emma's speech patterns, the phrases and sayings she used, sometimes made Regina think the memory spell she'd put on Emma and her son wasn't as strong as she'd thought--like her memories of Storybrooke were bubbling just below her consciousness. Or maybe the enchantment was weakening with time in this world without magic or with Regina's continued presence. But as long as those emerald eyes continued to stare blankly back at her, she was safe.

Regina settled their tab despite Emma's protest.

“I’ll walk you back to your room," Emma offered.

“That’s really not necessary.”

“It’s New York," Emma said, slipping into her wool coat. "Creeps come out of the woodwork even in a classy place like this.”

Regina thought about Walsh and the flash of neon green that had momentarily illuminated his eyes. “Okay," she conceded.

They made friendly small-talk on the short elevator ride down to Regina's floor. Regina asked questions about Emma's life, although she knew all the answers and had even been responsible for some of the memories that Emma shared. For herself, she remained just vague enough in her answers to not get herself in trouble, but provided enough detail not to rouse Emma's suspicions.

Regina stopped in front of her hotel room door and fished the keycard out of her clutch purse. “Thank you for seeing me to my room.”

“It’s no problem,” Emma dismissed. “It's probably silly of me, but I know I’ll sleep a lot better tonight knowing you made it back to your room safely.”

“That’s very chivalrous of you,” Regina remarked. She found Emma’s concern touching, but also curious.

Emma's hand reached for her face, and Regina flinched.

“Sorry." Emma clenched and unclenched her hand that continued to hover in the air. "There’s something in your hair.”

"Oh."

Emma leaned in closer and carefully removed a bit of something from Regina’s raven locks.  
"There," she murmured, lingering too close than Regina thought proper.

Regina stared at the thoughtful, emerald green eyes. From this proximity, she could detect Emma's light perfume.

"Is that drywall or plaster?" Emma worked the material between her thumb and forefinger. "Were you at a construction site or something?"

Regina touched her hair in the place Emma's hand had just been. She must have hit her head harder than she thought to have knocked debris from the wall. "Who knows how these things happen."

Breaking the temporary spell she found herself under, Regina unlocked and opened her hotel room. Her manicured fingers curled around the door's edge. “Would you like to come in? To make sure there’s no monsters hiding beneath my bed?”

“Oh, I should probably get going. Henry will be…waiting.”

Regina bit down on her lower lip. “Mmhmm.”

“Well, have-have a good night, Regina,” Emma stuttered. She appeared unwontedly awkward as though she didn't know how to say goodbye.

“You as well, Miss Swan.”

Regina entered her hotel room and shut the door behind her. She leaned against the back of the door and released a long breath. She closed her eyes and the visual of Emma leaning towards her played on the backs of her eyelids. _What had just happened?_ She had wanted to kiss Emma. _She had wanted to be kissed by Emma Swan._

Walsh’s words from earlier echoed in her head. What _was_ her game? At this point, she had no idea.

+++

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience and the continued kudos as I work on this story one chapter at a time. Between Real Life and writing my original novels (check me out at elizalentzski.com), it leaves little time in the day. But I love writing fan fiction, so thanks for sticking it out with me.

Chapter 4

"Mom? Ma? Hey, Mom!"

Emma shook her head. "Huh, what?"

"You're burning the French toast."

"Shit. Damn it." 

Emma grabbed a spatula and flipped the egg-soaked toast over in the frying pan and frowned at the now blackened breakfast. She stepped on the garbage can foot pedal, causing the lid to lift, and threw the wasted food away. At least Henry had caught it in time so the smoke alarm in the building hadn't gone off. When they'd first moved into the building, she had been guilty of burning microwave popcorn so badly that the local fire department had been alerted.

"Are you okay?"

Emma grabbed two more slices of white bread and dipped them into the bowl of egg batter. "Yeah. Why?"

Henry shrugged. "I dunno. You just seem distracted."

"I guess I am." Emma hated how her emotions were always just beneath the surface, and Henry had always been able to read her like a book. She stared at the new French toast, sizzling in the frying pan. "Hey, did Walsh call last night when I was out?"

"Nope." Henry fished a piece of turkey sausage from a pile sitting on a paper towel. "Why?"

"No reason." Emma frowned. She hadn't thought he had. When Walsh had given her that excuse the previous night, she'd known he'd been lying. She hadn’t wanted to call his bluff in front of Regina though.

Emma flipped the second set of French toast, careful not to let this batch burn. Her phone rang on the kitchen island, out of her reach. "Can you check who that is, kid?" she asked.

Henry wiped the sausage grease that coated his fingertips on his jeans and picked up the phone. "It doesn't say. And I don't recognize the area code."

"Okay. You can let it go to voicemail."

"Hello?" Henry answered the phone instead of letting it ring. "Emma Swan's phone."

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed.

He held his finger to his lips to shush his mother. "Yeah, she's here. She's burning French toast."

Emma put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Today?" Henry continued the call. "I think so. Let me ask." He held his hand over the phone. "It's Regina. She wants to know if you're free for lunch."

Emma opened her mouth. She had a few cases to check in on and would probably be eating in her car between meetings and phone calls. But before she could turn down Regina's request, Henry was answering for her. "Yup. She's free. How about noon at the Boat House in Central Park?"

Emma reached for the phone. "Give me that!" she hissed.

Henry hopped off his stool and positioned himself so the kitchen island was between them. "Sounds great," he rushed out before Emma could snatch the phone away. "You, too. She'll see you soon,” he said before hanging up.

"Henry! Why did you do that?" Emma complained.

"I know you. You'd have a chili dog for lunch in the Bug if you didn't have formal lunch plans. Besides, I like Regina. You could use some more friends."

Emma bit her lower lip. Regina had been in the forefront of her thoughts lately. She rarely allowed new people into her and Henry's life, but somehow Regina had maneuvered her way into their home. But more surprising was that Emma didn't feel insecure or threatened by it.

"I don't need friends," she said. She pushed the hair away from her son’s forehead. "I've got you."

Henry ducked his head away. "Moooommmm." He swept the hair back in place. “You need some adult friends.”

"Okay, okay," she conceded. I'll have lunch with her if I don't get busy."

"Make the time," he said pointedly. "And you've probably burnt the French toast again."

Emma let out an uncharacteristic shriek and ran to the stovetop. She threw the frying pan into the sink after seeing that this French toast was ruined as well.  
"How do you feel about cereal?" she sighed.

There was a brisk knock at the front door to interrupt their breakfast for a second time.

"What now?" Emma huffed.

"Someone coming over?" Henry asked.

Emma untied the apron around her waist and tossed it on the kitchen counter. “No.”

The knocking resumed as a loud pounding.

“Henry, wait here.” She opened the apartment door to find a man standing in the hallway.

A broad smile crossed the man’s handsomely rugged face. “Swan. At last—” He took a step forward, only to find Emma’s outstretched palm restricting him from entering her home. 

“Woah, do I know you?”

“Look, I need your help,” the peculiarly dressed man explained. “Something’s happened. Something terrible. Your family is in trouble.”

Emma’s features creased in concern. “My family’s right here. Who are you?”

“And old friend,” the stranger replied. “Look, I know you can’t remember me, but … I can make you.”

+++

"Sorry I'm late," Emma apologized. She threw herself onto the vacant chair across from where Regina sat. She scanned their surroundings, an old habit she’d acquired from so many years as a bond’s person. The Boat House was an iconic destination in Central Park. She typically avoided it because of the tourist traffic.

Regina looked over the top of the menu with raised eyebrows. "I almost thought I'd been stood up."

"I bet that would have been the first time in your life that had happened."

Regina returned her gaze to the menu options rather than let the blush reach her cheeks. "Then I guess we're both lucky you actually showed up."

None of this playful back and forth banter should have felt comfortable, but it did. She and Emma Swan had eventually come to an uneasy coexistence in Storybrooke. This memory-less version of Henry’s birth mother was becoming dangerously addictive. She’d known she was pressing her luck by inviting her to a second meal in so many days. 

Emma snatched a fresh baked roll from the basket on the table and took an aggressive bite. "I’m not always late, I promise,” she said around a mouthful of food. “My life is just weird sometimes. Things seem to happen to me."

Regina set her menu down. "Like what?"

Emma grabbed a pat of butter and spread a generous glob on her half-eaten dinner roll. "I dunno,” she shrugged. “Like strange men showing up at my front door and kissing me?” 

Regina nearly spit out her water. "What?!"

"What can I say?" Emma grinned. "Sometimes I'm too charming for my own good."

Regina took another sip from her water glass. "Charming," she mumbled under her breath. “Is this a common occurrence in this city? Should I be worried about strangers showing up at my hotel door, demanding to be kissed?” 

“Oh, I think you’re probably safe.” Emma waved the pointed end of her butter knife in Regina’s direction. “But maybe you should button up that blouse a little more so you don’t attract a fan club.”

Regina made an uncomfortable noise and tugged at the collar of her shirt. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her outfit that day—dress pants and a buttoned up blouse, unbuttoned to the third button. "And how does your Walsh feel about how irresistible you reportedly are?" Regina asked, deflecting.

"Irresistible?" Emma grinned playfully. "I only said I was charming."

Regina rolled her dark eyes.

"Walsh isn't the jealous type,” Emma said. “I like that about him. I've got enough drama in my life from my job. I don't need it in my private life as well."

Regina made a humming noise. "I don't know. Don't take this the wrong way, but it sounds a little boring to me. Don't you want a partner who’ll fight for you?"

Emma shrugged and fiddled with her water glass. "I dunno. I never gave it much thought. I guess I'm just impressed anyone would want me in the first place."

From anyone else, Regina would have thought they were fishing for compliments. But she knew Emma; she knew her deepest insecurities. This woman was an orphan who'd felt betrayed and abandoned by everyone who’d come into her life. Everyone but Henry, that is. It was something they shared.

Regina reached across the table and grasped Emma's hand. "Never sell yourself short, dear." She rubbed the pad of her thumb over Emma's knuckles.

Emma ducked her head, clearly pleased and embarrassed by the other woman's words. "So," she grinned. "You think I'm irresistible?"

Regina removed her hand from Emma's. "Where is that waitress?" she complained, scanning the busy restaurant. "I'm starving."

Emma laughed, but let the topic drop. "So I tried looking up Storybrooke, and you were right—nothing came up."

"I told you it was small."

"More like nonexistent,” Emma noted.

Regina shrugged, hoping she didn’t look unhinged. “We’re a hidden gem. The people of Storybrooke like it that way.”

"What are you up to after this?" Emma asked, picking up a laminated table tent and reading the featured menu items. “More important mayoral meetings?”

"No. I’m finished for the day, so I'll probably head back to my hotel. Pass the time before it's time to eat again."

"Have you gotten to see much of the city during your business trip?"

"A little of Central Park today, and what I've seen in the neighborhood around my hotel,” Regina said.

"That's a crime." Emma clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "No offense to your little town, which I'm sure is charming, but you're in the greatest city in the world. You've got to take advantage of that."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Do you have some recommendations for me?"

"How about I do you one better?" Emma leaned in. "I'll be your personal tour guide."

"I couldn't ask you to do that,” Regina resisted, shaking her head.

"You didn't ask. I offered."

Regina's immediate instinct was to reject the eager woman seated across the table from her. Snow White's warning tone chirped in the back of her mind; she wasn’t supposed to be spending so much time with Emma. Snow’s words of caution were nearly as annoying as Jiminy Cricket, the personification of a conscience. 

"Let’s say I took you up on your offer. What would be first on your list?" Regina asked.

Emma's smile widened. It took Regina aback to have the megawatt grin aimed in her direction. "How do you feel about fish?"

+++

"This is ... incredible."

"I'm betting they don't have anything like this in Storybook, huh?"

After lunch, and a brief disagreement over who should be responsible for the bill, Emma had hailed a cab and directed them to the New York Aquarium at Coney Island. Because it was a school day, the aquarium was sparsely populated. Only a few families—tourists to the city, Regina guessed—crowded around the impressive water tanks and exhibited sea animals. The rest of the aquarium’s buildings were largely vacant except for themselves and a few uniformed employees.

"It's Storybrooke, dear,” Regina gently corrected. “And no. We don't."

"Same difference."

Regina glanced askew at the woman standing beside her. Emma was staring straight ahead at the colorful fish in the tank in front of them. The aquablue of the water had tinted her alabaster skin a similar shade. First referencing her boyfriend as having a Peter Pan complex, the use of the word “charming,” and now Emma had called her town a story book. The magically repressed memories were there, just simmering beneath the surface.

"Do you come here often?" Regina asked.

"Enough," Emma confirmed, eyes trained on a school of fish floating parallel to the glass barrier. "When I’m having a bad day at work, it's a nice place to go to clear my head."

“Do you have a lot of bad days?” Regina asked.

“The good days have outnumber the bad days since we moved to New York.”

“I can understand your attraction to this place.” Regina watched a manta ray flutter gracefully across the oversized tank. "It's mesmerizing."

"Mmhmm," Emma agreed. "And haunting."

Regina looked to Emma again, amused and perplexed by the thoughtfulness writ across the blonde woman's face. 

"I'm suddenly hungry again," Emma announced.

"Hopefully not for fish," Regina mused.

"Naw. Something salty, like popcorn. I think I saw a vendor just outside the aquarium entrance. You want anything? My treat," she offered with an easy smile. “Especially since you were stubborn enough to insist on paying for my lunch.”

Regina found herself returning the smile rather than scolding the other woman for snacking between meals. "No thank you, dear. I'm fine."

Emma shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and bobbed her head. "I'll be right back. Don’t leave."

Regina watched the awkward yet endearing gait as Emma left in search of empty calories. Once out of sight, Regina returned her attention to the kaleidoscope of colors swimming just behind the thick aquarium glass. She hadn’t been humoring Emma before. There was nothing like this in either Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest. 

"Tell me, dear,” a low female voice announced, “just what might the Evil Queen be doing in New York?"

Regina spun away from the tank of salt water fish. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman who had addressed her wore the uniform of an aquarium employee. Her hair was disheveled and her skin shone with the grime of a hard day's work. Her face, however, was unreadable—emotionless. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"No, I'm sorry. I think you have me mistaken for someone else." Regina moved to dismiss the woman by walking away, but she found herself being tugged back by five strong fingers wrapped tight around her wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regina protested in the most offended and displeased tone she could muster. She was royalty; no one grabbed her like that and kept their head. She tried to shake her arm free from the aquarium worker's unforgiving grip, but she was unable to wretch herself free. 

"Maybe you'd realize who you were talking to if I had my tentacles back, Your Majesty," the dark skinned stranger growled lowly.

"Tentacles?" Regina echoed. She drew in a sharp breath when she realized how they knew each other. "The sea bitch. What are you doing here?"

"Rumor has it, I have you to thank for that."

"The curse," Regina murmured. "Yes."

"I was immortal," Ursula hissed. Regina winced when the grip at her wrist perceptibly tightened. "Anything I desired was mine. The seas and its creatures bent to my will. And now I clean their tanks."

"I've always enjoyed irony," Regina said in an even tone. Despite the coolness of her voice, Regina felt a surge of fear. It was becoming too much of a familiar compatriot beyond the town line in this world without magic. 

"Does your friend know who you are?"

"My friend?"

"The blonde woman you showed up with. Is she from our world?" 

Regina scanned the immediate vicinity, looking for Emma, but she had yet to return. "No,” she denied. “She's from here." The less Ursula knew, the better, even if it meant stringing together one lie after the next.

Ursula finally released her hold on Regina's arm. "What would she do if she knew who you really were?"

"Probably dismiss you as another New York City crazy person," Regina quipped, rubbing her wrist. “I hear they’re in high demand these days.”

Ursula made a thoughtful hum. "Is that a gamble you're willing to take, my dear?"

Regina narrowed her dark eyes. "What's in it for you?"

"To see you squirm like a worm on a hook, of course."

An apt metaphor. "Keep my cover, Squid," Regina bit back, "and I'll take you back with me when I leave this city." There was no chance Emma would ever believe the nonsensical ranting of this woman if she chose to expose Regina, but she didn't need Emma spooked away.

Ursula's eyes brightened with renewed interest. "To the Enchanted Forest?"

"No. That world is gone," Regina easily lied again. In truth, without knowing what had happened to them in the past year, she couldn’t know for sure what had happened to the Enchanted Forest or if it still existed. "But there's a new place for us. A little town north of here where your powers can be restored." 

Regina had no intention of helping the sea queen return to power, but she couldn't take the chance that Ursula might ruin her plans. 

"A town with magic?" Ursula eyeballed the former evil queen. "Why should I trust you? When has anything but lies and manipulation ever come out of that pretty mouth?"

Regina reflexively stiffened. "I'm not that same woman anymore."

Ursula's lip curled into a menacing leer. "And neither am I thanks to you."

+++

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! And it didn't take a month for this one to happen!

**Chapter 5**

She stood in her hotel room, tapping an impatient foot as she waited for someone to answer the phone. Regina didn't want to make the call, but she knew Snow and Charming would do something idiotic if she didn't periodically check in with them.

"Hello?" The sound of Snow White's voice was simultaneously aggravating and reassuring to Regina.

"There's a bit of a problem," Regina declared, eschewing a more proper hello.

"Oh, no. What now?" Snow lamented.

"Ursula is here."

"Ursula?" Snow's voice revealed her surprise. "As in the giant octopus queen of the sea, Ursula? The deity you impersonated one of the many times you tried to kill me, Ursula?"

Regina winced. She'd nearly forgotten about that. "That would be the one."

"What is she doing in New York?"

"It would appear that she lives and works here," Regina sighed. "Emma and I ran into her today at the city aquarium. She feeds the fish. Ironically."

"Wait. You saw Emma again?"

"It wasn't a big deal,” Regina dismissed, running her fingers through her hair. “She said she wanted to show me her city."

"I don't like it, Regina. You know how I feel about you being in direct contact with Emma and Henry. And it can't be a coincidence that you ran into Ursula. Why is she in New York instead of the Enchanted Forest or Storybrooke?"

"That's a good question. And I honestly don't know. Rumple's curse did all kinds of things I hadn't expected."

"I wonder if she can realm-jump like the mermaids," Snow wondered aloud.

"My guess is no since she is very much in human form and without six of her eight arms."

"Maybe if you get her wet," Snow proposed.

Regina rolled her eyes. This wasn't the movie Splash and Ursula was no gremlin either. "There's no magic here."

"Then you'll just have to bring her back to Storybrooke with you."

"She's a villain, Snow. Why ever would we want to help her get her magic back?"

"If we did her this favor, maybe she would realm jump for us to the Enchanted Forest. Maybe she could help us figure out what happened during the year we lost. Maybe she can help us find whomever enacted the second curse."

"That's a lot of maybes," Regina sighed.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No." Regina turned toward her hotel door when she heard a brisk knock. "I have to go, Snow."

"When are you coming back?" Snow demanded.

"Soon. But it seems now I've got an octopus to convince to come back with me."

"Regina. Be careful."

Regina could hear the concern in Snow's words, and it made her uncomfortable. "I can't make any promises."

The knocking at the door persisted.

"I've got to go, Snow. I think your daughter is here."

"What? Wait, Reg—."

Regina hung up the phone and couldn't repress the smug smile that made its way to her lips. She might have sort of been one of the Good Guys now, but she couldn't deny how much joy she got from toying with Snow White.

Regina smoothed her hands over the black and white dress she'd chosen for the night and ran her fingers through her dark hair. The dress hugged her lean curves and was meticulously fitted like all of her wardrobe. When they'd made plans to meet up later that evening, Emma had instructed that she wear something nice—“like a dress or something” she'd told her. Regina knew there was no point in telling Emma that her instructions were both vague and unhelpful. She would get no more clues from the blonde woman.

Emma stood on the other side of the door in a dark green dress that Regina was sure complimented the color of her irises. Regina leaned her hand against the doorframe, blocking Emma's entrance. "I'm glad it was you at the door and not some strange man who wants to kiss me."

Emma laughed. "Hey, the night is young. There's still time to find you a stalker."

Regina frowned. "Is that who that man was this morning?"

"Nah," Emma dismissed. "Someone probably just left the front entrance to the building propped open again. It happens sometimes, especially in winter when these homeless or mentally unstable guys are looking for a place to get warmed up."

Region's frown deepened. "I don't know what's preferable—a stalker or a crazy man who wants a kiss."

"All part of the perks of living in this city," Emma chuckled. "I suppose Storybrooke doesn't have those kinds of problems?"

"Oh, we're not without problems," Regina remarked. "They're just of a different kind."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Nothing very interesting, I'm afraid," Regina said with practiced nonchalance. Just a year missing from the townspeople's memories. "Where's Henry tonight?"

"Sleepover party," Emma grinned. "So I guess I don't have a curfew," she winked.

Regina swallowed; her mouth had inexplicably become dry. "By the way, you look lovely, dear."

"You do, too,” Emma admired. “We clean up pretty good, huh?”

Regina scanned the other woman from head to toe. The tight green dress left little to the imagination without being too risqué. Regina marveled at the other woman’s ability to tiptoe that fine line. “Indeed,” she murmured.

“Your heels are killer," Emma said, pointing to Regina's footwear. "How do you even walk? My ankles hurt just looking at them."

Regina stared down at her feet. The shiny black stilettos were as much a part of her mayoral uniform as her typical outfit of button-up blouse and tailored pants.

"Are these going to be shoes okay?" she worried aloud. "Are we taking a cab or walking very far?"

"We can walk, if that's okay with you and your fancy shoes. It's just a few blocks from here."

Regina brushed away a few locks of hair that had fallen over her eyes. "You're really not going to tell me where you're taking me?"

"Don't tell me you're one of those people who hate surprises."

"Alright, I won't tell you,” Regina smirked.

Emma tapped at her wrist, where a watch might be. "We'd better get a steppin' so we're not late though." She stepped back from the hotel room door and made a grand, elaborate gesture with her hands. "Shall we, m'lady?"

* * *

Regina exhaled. The lights and sounds and movement all around her in Times Square was equally exhilarating and intimidating. She couldn't recall having felt simultaneously insignificant, but also having her finger on the pulse of the world. The lights were blinding. It was hard to remember that it was nighttime in winter. The sky was lit up and with so many people crowded in one spot, the residual body heat made the night feel a few degrees warmer than before.

This world was a marvel; Storybrooke was an in-between world with remnants of the Enchanted Forest, but since it had been frozen in time for nearly three decades, the town had fallen behind in technology and communications.

A solid arm snaked around her midsection. "Stay close," Emma instructed in Regina's ear. "If I lose you in this crowd, I'll probably never find you again."

"Is this where you wanted to take me?" Regina tried to ignore Emma’s proximity and how surprisingly good the arm around her felt.

"Nope. But it's a cool detour, right?"

Regina tilted her head back to take in as much of the view as her eyes would allow. "Very cool."

Next to her, Emma began to shake with laughter.

Regina furrowed her brow. "What's so funny?"

Emma's deep dimples were on display. "I'm sorry; I don't know why hearing you say 'very cool' is so funny to me. I don't even know you, but something tells me you've never said those words in your entire life."

Regina thinned her lips. "We're on a tight schedule, are we not?"

Emma's easy grin remained glued to her face. "Yeah. Come on." She grabbed onto Regina's gloved hand in her own and began to tug her through the thick mass of bodies.

Regina quickened her step to keep up with Emma's pace. She expertly maneuvered the two of them through the crowds. Regina held on tightly to Emma's hand, heeding the other woman's words of warning even though if they got separated Regina could always just call it a night and catch a cab back to her hotel.

"Are we close?" Rather than take notice of her surroundings, Regina watched the back of Emma's head and the soft bounce of blonde curls.

"Yeah; it's just around the corner."

The lights of Times Square faded in the background, but as they turned another corner, the sky was re-populated with the bright billboards of Broadway.

Region's feet caught on the sidewalk.

Emma stopped and turned back. "Is something wrong?"

Regina gaped at one particular sign prominent above the Gershwin Theater. The outline of two females, one green and one white, were displayed above the flashing lights of the famous theater.

"Are we going to a Broadway show?"

"Yeah," Emma confirmed. "A guy I know in the police department has a hook up that gets decent seats really cheap. It's borderline illegal, but hey, I'm not gonna complain." She frowned and her forehead creased. "Unless you've already seen Wicked?"

Regina licked her lips. "No. I've never seen the play." But she knew enough about the story to have called it her own.

Emma had somehow procured two seats in the front center of the first balcony. As Regina sat down, she couldn't help staring at the mechanical-looking dragon at her eye level. A play about magic and misunderstood witches and the birth of evil. It was all too much.

"Impressive set design, right?" Emma noted, noticing Regina's stare.

"Indeed," Regina murmured. The dragon sat passive and immobile, but Regina had dealt with too many fire-breathing beasts in her day to totally relax.

Her anxiety must have been palpable. "Are you okay?" Emma asked, concern troubling her features.

"I'm fine," Regina grit out. "Just excited for the play to start." Even if the woman in the seat beside her wasn't the same Emma Swan that Regina had tangled with so many times, she wasn't going to let this version see her unhinged.

* * *

When the final curtain call had been made, and the lights in the theater had been turned on, Regina dabbed at the corners of her eyes, mindful of her eye makeup. The performance had been powerful; every actor on stage was a professional and when their voices lifted in song, it gave Regina goosebumps. It was the closest thing to magic this world had. But more so than the entertainment value, it was the storyline that had brought Regina to tears.

Emma turned in her chair to face the raven-haired woman beside her. Regina had been conspicuously quiet throughout the show and had even remained in her seat at intermission when Emma had gone in search of a bathroom and candy. "So what'd you think?"

"I adored it," Regina revealed in a voice so quiet and genuine it surprised her own ears. "Thank you, Miss Swan."

"You're very welcome." Emma grabbed Regina's hand and squeezed. "But it's still just Emma."

Upon leaving the Gershwin Theater, Regina slipped her arm through the crook of Emma's elbow, linking their arms together. It was an instinctive move and after she'd done it, she couldn't recall why she had. It wasn't as though she needed to stick close to Emma for fear of getting lost; the crowds were far less intimidating on Broadway than they had been at Times Square. Emma didn’t comment about the overly familiar gesture, however, so Regina felt confident remaining linked at the arms.

"Not exactly a traditional version of the Wizard of Oz story, huh?" Emma noted as they navigated a busy intersection. "Kinda makes you wonder what other fairytale villains have gotten a bad rap."

"It's amazing the power authors have," Regina murmured, more to herself than to the woman beside her. She continued to match Emma's long strides. "What do you think about the story's premise that evil is created and not born?" She knew she was playing with fire; Emma had demonstrated time and again that her suppressed memories weren't as buried as Regina had intended. "Do you think that's true?"

"Kind of. I mean, I totally think we're all a product of our environment. If you had a shitty home life growing up, that's bound to have an impact on you as an adult."

Regina wanted to point out that Emma had turned out all right despite her childhood in foster care, but she wasn't supposed to know that information. Instead, she remained quiet and tucked her chin closer to her chest when an icy blast of wind swept down the Broadway sidewalk.

"Are you okay? Are you warm enough?" Emma worried.

"I'll be fine," Regina said through chattering teeth.

Emma unlinked elbows and instead threw her arm around Regina's shoulder and briskly rubbed up and down the other woman's far arm, trying to warm her with her body heat. "Come on, I know a route that'll get us to your hotel faster. We can avoid Times Square on the way back."

Emma hastened her step and Regina struggled to keep up. She was a master at walking in high heels, but Emma's brisk walk had practically turned into a jog.

"Miss Swan," she stiffly protested. "Emma." She frowned when Emma darted to her left down a narrow alleyway that was in no way a proper street.

_What is with these people and their need to take shortcuts?_ she grumbled to herself.

Regina turned down the alley in close pursuit of the blonde who could be endearing or annoying at the flip of a switch. Emma hadn't gotten far, however. Regina spotted her only a few feet ahead of her.

"Emma," Regina started, ready to scold the woman for the unnecessary detour.

"Shhh."

"Do not Shush me, Miss Swan," Regina snapped, annoyance readily building.

If Emma was unable to silence the former evil queen, a low, threatening growl did.

Over Emma's shoulder, Regina saw it. At first, because of the alley's dim lighting, she couldn't make out the outline of the huddled, hulking figure. But then it puffed its chest and two black wings rose from its back.

Dragon, Regina immediately thought. But this was like no dragon she'd ever seen. For one, it was too small, even for a juvenile dragon. Secondly, the face and snout were all wrong. And finally, it was covered in fur.

The creature growled again, this time in a more high-pitched register. Its wings expanded as far as they could go in the narrow street, and its glassy eyes flashed an eerie neon green. With one pump of its impressive, bat-like wings, the furry beast shot into the air. It let loose another frightening howl and snapped its pointed jaws.

Regina was frozen, stunned by the obviously magical creature's existence in New York, but not so petrified that she didn't realize what was happening: they were going to be attacked.

The winged monster hovered a few feet above them. It swooped low, long arms reaching and its sharp teeth bared. Regina's reflexes kicked in, much as they had when she'd confronted the man who'd tried to steal from Henry. Somewhere in her brain she remembered that this was a world without magic, but the rest of her body didn't care.

She wrapped an arm around Emma in a protective gesture and shot her free arm forward to ward off the attacking beast. A bright white ball of energy crackled in the palm of Regina's gloved hand. She snapped her head to look at Emma, too worried that her cover had been blown rather than dwell on the fact that she had access to magic. But Emma's emerald eyes were closed tight.

Not wasting the moment or the fireball, Regina shot the pulsing orb toward their attacker. It struck the winged beast square in the chest. The monster howled from the impact, but the magic hadn't been enough to vaporize the creature.

Those inhuman green eyes flashed brighter, glaring down at Regina, whose arm had remained around Emma. When Regina's dark eyes met those of her attacker—the beast still hovering a few feet above them—she realized that she'd seen those eyes before: Walsh.

Regina summoned another ball of energy, determine to finish this. The green-eyed beast shrieked in protest, and with another pump of its wings, shot up into the night sky and out of view.

The threat no longer eminent, the magic Regina had conjured dissipated. The encounter had lasted only seconds, but she slumped forward, suddenly exhausted.

Regina withdrew the arm around Emma and returned it to her side. "It's gone, Emma."

The blonde's eyes finally fluttered open. "Jesus," she blew out a rough breath. "I knew about the alligators in the sewers, but what the hell was that?"

"An animal of some kind. Maybe a bear?" Regina proposed. She brushed at the front of her wool trench coat, removing imaginary lint.

"Bears don't have wings, Regina."

"I'm the mayor of a small town, Miss Swan, not a zoologist."

Emma stared up at the sky. "Call me crazy, but that thing looked a helluva lot like a flying monkey."

"Like from the play?" Regina laughed uncomfortably. "So was that all part of the show?"

"I know. It's crazy," Emma dismissed her observation, but continued to look perplexed.

Regina didn't like the look on Emma's face. She could see the gears churning in her head, trying to make sense of it all. And Regina knew her sheriff well enough to know that this was something Emma wouldn't easily forget. She would hunt this curiosity down until she solved the mystery.

Regina hated to admit it but Snow White had been right. She needed to stop spending time with Emma. After tonight, she vowed, this would stop. She would figure out what was Walsh's deal on her own and then she would go back to Storybrooke. It was for the best.

While Regina's brain busied itself with mental promises to stay away from Henry and Emma, they'd arrived back at Regina's hotel. She'd been so deep in thought that she'd practically walked past the front entrance.

"Hey," Emma called. She snagged Regina by the elbow and stopped her progress. "This is you."

Regina snapped to attention and looked at their surroundings. "So it is."

"Are you going to be okay the rest of the way?" Emma asked.

"Going up to my room? Yes, dear. I think I can manage just fine. What about you?" she asked. "Please tell me you're taking a cab the rest of the way home. I don't like the idea of you walking alone with a winged bear on the loose."

"Are you trying to get me to spend the night?"

Regina felt herself blush furiously. "No, I, uh, I..."

"Relax, Regina," Emma chuckled. "I'm only teasing you." She tilted her head to the side. "Geez. Do you always blush so easily?"

"Actually, no."

She was hardly the blushing maiden anymore. She might not have looked it, but Regina had decades of experience on Emma Swan. So why was she suddenly feeling so very shy whenever the conversation turned to sex?

Emma threw an arm into the air and hailed a cab. Moments later a yellow taxi was idling at the curb waiting for its passenger.

"Goodnight, Miss Swan." Regina took Emma's hand into her gloved one. "Thank you for a memorable night and trip."

Emma's features scrunched together. "Wait. Are you leaving?"

Regina sucked in a deep breath. "Yes. My business is nearly concluded, so I'll be returning to Storybrooke shortly."

"But I'm going to see you again before you leave, right?"

"I don't know."

"I didn't realize this was going to be goodbye. It probably sounds dumb to you, but I really feel like I've known you for longer than a few days."

"Miss Swan, please. Your taxi."

Emma's eyes left Regina's face to regard the waiting cab. "I can get another one," she dismissed. "Don't you think we should have one more drink or something? It feels weird to say goodbye out on the sidewalk like this."

Regina bit her bottom lip. This would be the last time she saw Emma Swan she told herself. This _needed_ to be the last time. But one drink wouldn't hurt, right?

+++

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your patience and continued support for this little story. The Kindle I write on BROKE, and I LOST this entire chapter just as I was about to finish it, meaning I had to start from scratch and try to reproduce it from memory. Here is the first half of the lost chapter to keep you busy; I hope to have the second half up early next week.
> 
> On a more positive note, I just released my latest novel, Winter Jacket 3. If you're interested, the original Winter Jacket is available for FREE on Kindle for the next few days. I hope you'll check it out and happy reading!

In such a disorienting city, it had been too easy to seek out the familiar, even if it came in the annoying, yet equally distracting form of Emma Swan.

This would be the last time, Regina told herself. She'd get to the bottom of this Walsh business before returning to Storybrooke, but she'd do so while keeping her distance from Henry and Emma. It was the right thing to do. The selfless thing to do. Regina snorted to herself. It was the heroic thing to do.

"What's so funny?"

Regina looked across the table at the woman in the stunning green dress. "Nothing," she quickly corrected. "I was just thinking about this trip. It's not quite what I expected when I came to New York."

"You never have said what brought you to my fair city." Emma leaned forward in her seat at the small table for two. The motion caused her dress to dip demurely in the front, yet Regina couldn't help when her gaze came to rest on the other woman's attractive collarbone and the conservative amount of cleavage the fitted dress allowed.

After the awkward reluctance of either woman to say good night, they'd made their way back to the rooftop bar of Regina's hotel. With the late hour, they were two of the only few patrons left.

"Mayoral meetings," Regina routinely replied. She absently stirred her mixed drink with the tiny black straw in her well glass.

"That much I know," Emma noted, "but what exactly are those?"

"It's about as interesting as you'd imagine," Regina remarked. "A bunch of bureaucrats in suits talking about budgets, and schools, and utilities, and how to fix potholes."

"Did you always want to be a mayor?"

Regina licked at the faintly visible scar at her upper lip. "No. But it was a kind of familial expectation. I come from…" she hesitated. "…a long line of mayors."

"But do you like it?" Emma pressed.

"It has its perks," Regina admitted. "As you may have guessed, I like being in charge."

Emma smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, you do seem to have a talent for that."

"And yourself? Did you always want to be a bailsbonds person?" Regina turned the question around. She knew much about the Savior, but certain holes in her life story existed. Regina had never really had the opportunity to pry. She and Emma had only just reconciled their differences or at least had come to an understanding when Regina had sent Emma and Henry away in that yellow tin can of a car.

"I kind of fell into it," Emma said. She dropped her eyes to the tabletop. Regina remained silent, sensing the other woman wasn't done speaking. "I was looking for someone," Emma continued. "I had a rough childhood, and I wanted to track some people down from my past when I got old enough to do something about it. In the meantime, the job kind of fell into my lap in the meantime."

Regina spoke without meaning to: "Your parents."

"How'd you guess?"

Regina made a noise in the back of her throat. "I put the pieces together. You mentioned something about it on our way back from the play."

Emma cradled her glass in both hands and looked directly into the drink as though it were a wishing well. "I was orphaned," she stated quietly. "Never knew them. Bounced around the system."

She spoke in short, staccato fragments as though it took too much to speak in full sentences. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you all of this." She shook her head and laughed self-consciously. "Even Walsh doesn't …"

Regina reached across the table and grabbed Emma's fidgeting hands to still them. Dark hazel eyes met emerald irises. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

The new memories she'd given Emma and Henry had been an attempt to right some of the harm this woman had endured because of her blind drive for vengeance. But despite her best efforts, some hurt could never be undone. She had still cursed Emma to a parentless childhood.

Regina blinked rapidly, feeling the telltale sting of fresh tears in the corners of her eyes. She abruptly stood, nearly upsetting her chair. "I-I'll be right back," she said thickly.

Emma looked up through heavy eyelashes. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, dear," Regina smoothly lied. A smile appeared on her painted mouth. "I just need to freshen up in the bathroom."

Regina lengthened her stride to escape to the safety of the women's restroom. It was a small room with one stall and a mirror that hung over a single sink. She dead-bolted herself inside after checking beneath the partitioning walls of the bathroom stall to make sure she was alone.

Her fingers curled around the sides of the white porcelain sink, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. What was she still doing here? Why couldn't she rid herself of Emma Swan's company? She had only planned for this to be a short visit – to ascertain that Emma and Henry were doing well—and then to return to Storybrooke. She had to get back; a year was missing from her life.

"Say good night," she told her reflection. "Stop hiding like a coward; stop delaying the inevitable."

She stood to her full height and flicked a hand through her dark hair and pulled the skirt of her clinging dress back in place. It was time to move forward.

The heels of Regina's heels struck loudly on the concrete floor as she left the bathroom and walked in the direction of the table where she'd left Emma. Her eyes narrowed in displeasure when she spotted the blonde woman, but saw someone else had taken her seat at the table for two. Her heels click-clacked with increased aggression. I leave for a minute and some man has the audacity to take my place, she scowled to herself.

From her distance, she couldn't make out the man's features. She noted the medium sandy brown hair, groomed facial hair, and a long leather jacket. But as she closed on the table and the stranger's face came into focus, Regina ducked behind a pillar. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized she knew the man seated across the way from Emma.

Hook.

Regina peered around the large column to observe the two without notice. Hook leaned across the table and cast furtive glances around at the bar's other patrons, no doubt keeping an eye out for Regina's return. She couldn't see Emma's face or even determine her body language beyond the erect seated pose and the straightened shoulders. This was no coincidence. There was no way Hook had stumbled upon them. He'd been following Emma, but for how long and to what purpose, Regina didn't know.

She fished her phone out of her clutch purse and pulled up her most recent contact.

"This had better be good," Ursula growled in a voice thick with sleep.

"So sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, but we have a problem," Regina declared.

"You're about to have a problem if you don't have a good reason for calling me at this hour," Ursula snipped back.

"Killian Jones is in New York."

"Hook?"

Regina had momentarily considered that perhaps the two sea-faring persons were in cahoots, but Ursula's voice revealed true surprise. "I'm watching him talk to Emma right now."

"Oooh," Ursula cooed. "Is that jealousy I detect, your Majesty?"

"Hardly," Regina snapped. "But now there's two noisome men whose presence in Emma's life must be eliminated before we can return to Storybrooke."

"Hook and who else?"

"A man named Walsh. I don't believe he's all he's advertised."

Ursula laughed into the phone. "They never are, honey."

If not for Walsh, she'd be returning in the morning before she could do more damage. The longer she remained in New York, the greater the chance she had of ruining Emma and Henry's opportunity to find happiness.

"I think he's from our world," Regina noted. "He's a shape-shifter of some kind. He reeks of dark magic."

"But there's no magic in this world," Ursula protested.

Regina thought back to the dark alley and the white crackle of energy she'd experienced. "I had thought that, too," she said, quietly reflective. "But now I'm not so sure. Regardless, before we can return to Storybrooke, I have to make sure Emma will be safe from this person."

"What's the story with this Emma woman?" Ursula pressed. "Why do you care what happens to her?"

"She's the birth mother of my adopted son." It was the least complicated way she knew how to explain their situation without getting into prophesies and saviors and curses and happy endings. Ursula knew very few details and she preferred to keep it that way.

"You have a son?"

Not anymore. "I told you I'd changed," Regina stiffly replied. "Walsh knows I suspect something, but he'd never notice you."

Ursula snorted. "Thanks."

"Hook must know I'm in town, otherwise he wouldn't have waited until I left the table to talk to Emma. But he doesn't know that I know he's here," Regina thought out loud.

Regina watched the heavily eyeliner'd man slip a small piece of paper across the table. Emma opened the folded-up slip of paper, but her body blocked Regina's view of what the piece of paper said.

"You want me to kill this Walsh person?" Ursula asked.

"No. Nothing that drastic." Regina frowned. When had she gotten so soft? An earlier time and a different version of herself would have immediately eliminated Walsh without a second thought. "Not unless it's necessary, at least."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I'm really not sure. As long as I can be assured he's out of Emma's life, I'll be satisfied."

"Still sounds like jealousy to me, dear."

"You need not concern yourself with the reasons behind what I do," Regina spat out. "The sooner these men are out of the way, the sooner we can return to Storybrooke."

By the time Regina hung up with the sea queen, Killian Jones was gone and Emma once again sat by herself.

Regina plastered a bright but cautious smile to her face when she returned to the table. "Sorry about that," she apologized as she sat down in the seat Hook had only moments before occupied. "I hope you weren't terribly lonely."

"Luckily I had Jack Daniels to keep me company." Emma shook her tumbler glass, and the ice chunks jingled inside.

Regina studied Emma's face for some sign of recognition or any noticeable change in her body language. Was Emma playing her? Did she have her memories back? Regina readily dismissed her concerns. Emma Swan was no actress, but she needed to find out what was on the piece of paper Hook had given her.

A uniformed waiter appeared at their table before Regina could begin to probe. "I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the bar is closing for the night."

Regina glanced at her watch. "Goodness, I had no idea it had gotten so late."

Emma stood and straightened her legs. Regina noticed her rake her fingers through her long chaotic blonde curls--a nervous, involuntary movement. "I guess this is the part where we say our goodnights and goodbyes."

"There's alcohol in my room," Regina blurted.

Emma arched a pale eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"I just mean there's a mini bar," she said less aggressively. "We don't have to, but if you were interested in one more drink, we could go up to my room."

Regina hollowed her cheeks and waited for Emma's response. If they had been in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest, she would need only to snap her fingers to produce the mystery slip of paper. In this world, however, everything took more time and effort, for which she did not have the patience.

"Lead the way."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the 2nd half of the lost chapter! Enjoy!

The short elevator ride to Regina’s room was quiet. Emma seemed pensive, and Regina suspected that Hook’s visit was the reason why their conversation—once vibrant and full of witty banter and revealing truths—now stalled and stuttered. 

Regina had no master plan. She had no idea how she was going to find the slip of paper Hook had given Emma in her absence. Worse yet, she didn't know if Emma even had the note on her. She could have balled up the paper and thrown it away or used it as a cocktail napkin and left it on the table at the bar.

Regina used her keycard to gain access to her hotel room and promptly tossed her jacket onto the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

Emma's black wool trench joined Regina's on the bed, and she strode purposefully towards the miniature refrigerator. Still teetering on spiked stilettos, Emma dipped low and became eye level with the mini bar. Regina sat at the edge of the mattress and did her best not to notice how the bottom hem of Emma's dress hiked up her upper thighs and shapely backside with the movement. 

With her eyes trained her eyes on the crouching woman, her hand moved toward the pile of winter jackets, but she jerked her hand back when Emma spoke. 

“Poison of choice?” Emma asked, inspecting the contents of the mini bar. 

"Vodka will be fine." She slipped out of her skyscraper heels and rubbed at her arches. 

Emma grabbed an assortment of miniature booze bottles and lined them up on the top of the fridge. She disappeared momentarily into the bathroom and retrieved two clear glasses. She seemed to know her way around a mini bar and hotel, an observation Regina kept to herself. 

Emma emptied the contents of two miniature bottles into two glasses and handed one to Regina. There was no other place to sit in the room besides the floor, so she sat next to Regina on the bed.

Emma raised her glass in salute. "What should we toast to?" she asked.

Regina raised her own glass. "I have no idea."

Emma clinked her drink against Regina's. "To new friends," she decided on.

"To new friends," Regina quietly repeated.

Regina observed Emma over the top of her glass as she sipped her vodka drink. There was only one way she was going to be able to thoroughly inspect Emma's jacket pockets and find Hook's note without the other woman knowing: she'd just have to out-drink her.

“So tell me more about this Walsh of yours,” Regina began to pry. "Have you been together very long?" She didn’t want to tip Emma off of her suspicions, but as this was to be their last night together, she felt safe in doing a little digging.

"Just a few months," Emma noted. "Henry and I had just moved to the city and I needed furniture. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, just a new couch, but somehow I ended up leaving his store with both,” she chuckled.

Regina tilted her head to one side. “It happened that fast?”

“No, no. I exaggerate. But it feels that fast,” she admitted with a push of air out of her lungs. “I haven’t had anyone in my life…in a long while…so even though we've been dating a few months, it all of feels like uncharted territory.”

“I don’t suppose you did a background check on him?”

Emma ducked her head. “I might have." She worried her glass between two hands. “But I’ve got to give the guy credit. Single mom? That’s a lot to take on. Plus, let’s be honest; I’m no walk in the park, either.”

"You shouldn't say things like that," Regina chastised. "Don't sell yourself short, Emma.” 

Emma shook her head. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough. I know you're an unselfish person who puts her son's needs before her own. I can see how hard you work, how protective you are, how thoughtful you are." Not even one drink in, and Regina already felt her tongue loosen. Her eyes trained on the delicate slope of Emma's shoulders and the graceful stretch of neck. "You are exquisite."

Emma looked suddenly shy. "What, this old thing?" she demurred.

Regina wet her lips. This was decidedly a bad idea. But she'd already established that she'd never been good at denying herself what she wanted.

+++

The sounds of New York in the morning filtered through the closed hotel windows. Car horns sounded their complaint, police sirens howled in the distance, and construction workers jackhammered at concrete sidewalks below.

Inside Regina's hotel room, the mixed cacophony of noises threatened to split her head open. She rolled onto her back and groaned. The room was blanketed in darkness, but a sliver of sunlight pushed through the mostly drawn shades.

In the adjacent bathroom, she heard the faucet turn on and off. Her once heavily lidded eyes flipped open at the sound. She wasn't alone. 

Emma, in the green dress from the previous night, exited the bathroom. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she held a glass of water in one hand. 

“Drink it all,” Emma instructed.

Regina, for once, didn’t put up a fight. "Good grief, what did I drink last night?" 

"Besides half of your minibar?" Emma chuckled. 

Regina pressed her palm to her forehead, a momentary reprieve from the throbbing in her cranium. "If you drank the other half, how are you so chipper?"

Emma shrugged. "Good genes, I guess. I've always been able to hold my liquor."

Regina finished the remainder of the water. She couldn't recall if either Snow or Charming had had a talent for binge drinking.

"And for the record," Emma continued, "you took off your own clothes."

Despite feeling groggy and disoriented, Emma's words had Regina snapping to attention. "I did what?"

She pulled back the top cover to discover she lay in bed in only her bra and underwear, both black and lacy. She quickly jerked the blankets back in place to cover herself up to her neck. She felt like burying her head entirely beneath the covers. "How? Why?" 

Emma grinned, looking far too amused by the situation. "A few vodkas in, you said something about being too warm and that your dress was too tight, and the next thing I knew, your dress was on the floor."

This time, Regina did pull the covers entirely over her head to hide her embarrassment. She felt the corner of the mattress depress as Emma sat down at the end of the bed.

"And then you started complaining about leather and corsets," Emma continued, "and I kind of zoned out because you stopped making sense."

"What else did I say?" 

"I caught something about royalty in sweatpants." Emma shrugged. "Honestly, I couldn't keep up." She grinned broadly. "You're a pretty fun drunk."

Regina felt the need to defend herself, but she had no more armor, no weaponry to even mass a counter attack. Her final scrap of pride or propriety was a rumpled dress on her hotel floor. She had invited Emma up to her room to discover what had been on that scrap of paper Hook had given her, but she'd only embarrassed herself in the process.

"Don't worry about it," Emma said, interpreting Regina's silence. "It happens to the best of us."

"Not to me, it doesn't," Regina mumbled from beneath the blankets.

The covers slipped down as Emma gave a gentle tug, and Regina's head popped back into view. 

"It's good to let go every now and again, Regina," Emma remarked. "You can't be perfect and have everything together all the time. If I'd done that, Henry wouldn't exist."

Regina felt the hard look on her face soften. "No, I suppose you're right."

"Besides," Emma said with a cheeky grin, "you've got a rocking body, girl. If you've got it, why not flaunt it."

Regina cleared her throat uncomfortably, acutely aware of the blush on her cheeks. "Thank you, dear."

Emma bounced to her feet, looking refreshed and recharged. "I should probably be headed back. Henry gets home from his sleepover party in a little while and I should be there when he gets home."

"Right. Of course."

"Besides, I'm sure you want to be on the road soon so you can get back to Storybrooke at a decent hour," Emma remarked.

Regina chewed on the inside of her lower lip. "Mmhm."

Emma hesitated on her feet. "It feels weird leaving with you in bed. Like we had a one-night stand and I'm taking off the morning after."

"Oh. Let me just...find some clothes..." Regina scanned the room with her eyes, but found only her dress from the previous night.

"No, no. You don't have to get up on account of me," Emma insisted. 

Regina smiled weakly. "Thank you for sticking around at least until morning."

"I'm glad we met, Regina," Emma said in earnest. "If your mayoral duties ever have you coming to New York again, I hope you'll call." She thrust her hand out for an awkward handshake. 

Regina took the proffered hand and held on. "Of course. And thank you for your hospitality, Miss Swan. Tell Henry..." She paused and swallowed down difficult emotions. "Tell Henry I said goodbye."

The hotel room door quietly clicked shut with Emma's exit, and Regina rolled over in bed. She felt overwhelmed by circumstances. She still didn't know what business Hook had with Emma, and she needed to connect with Ursula to decide what should be done about Walsh. She pressed her face into her pillow and made a frustrated noise.

The pillow smelled like Emma Swan.

\+ + +

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for all the kudos and reviews, ya'll. My goal is to update this story every week like I used to during my prime BtVS writing days. It's an ambitious goal, but your kind words and enthusiasm keep me inspired. For those of you anxious for some SwanQueen sexytimes, know that I'm a fan of the slow burn, and good things come to those who wait.
> 
> This one's a little shorter than usual, but you'll see why I wanted to end it where I did. I promise a really long, juicy chapter next time around :)

As the elevator doors closed, Emma released a long, tired breath. She leaned against the back wall of the empty compartment and let her body sag. She had put on a brave face in front of Regina, but it was a lie that she wasn’t feeling the aftermath of the previous night. It wasn’t like her to stay out all night or to crash in the hotel room of someone who was practically a stranger. She was a mom. And moms didn’t behave like that, not that she had much to go on.

Emma thought about the woman in the hotel room she’d just left. She didn’t believe in things like Past Lives or Fate, but she couldn’t ignore the peculiar feeling that they weren’t exactly strangers to each other—a feeling that only intensified with each moment they’d spent together. It was probably for the best that Regina was leaving town.

The elevator reached the ground level, and Emma stepped out, heels clicking on the solid lobby floor. Once outside she pulled on her winter jacket over the dress she’d worn the previous night. Thankfully, the coat was long enough that it covered the dress otherwise she would have looked like she was taking a Walk of Shame—a classy Walk of Shame—but still one nonetheless. 

She bit her bottom lip: Walk of Shame. She’d told Regina only a portion of what had transpired the previous night. She’d told her about the removed dress, but she hadn’t mentioned the way her own green eyes had hungrily inspected and admired every exposed inch of smooth, flawless flesh, or how she had enjoyed too much the fumbled and unknowing striptease. It had been more than just simple admiration for a woman dedicated to physical perfection. It had been the lust of observing a tightened feminine abdomen as Regina had maneuvered her nearly naked body on the bed.

Emma swallowed hard as her brain replayed the visuals from the previous night. She lingered too long on thoughts about what it would have been like to grab the woman by her hips and to dip her tongue into the shallow indent of her bellybutton or to press butterfly-soft kisses along a dramatic collarbone that demanded attention. Emma’s willpower had been shed along with the black and white dress, but Regina had passed out before Emma could fall down that rabbit hole. 

And she had Walsh. She loved Walsh. He was a good man, and she wasn’t the kind of person to cheat on a significant other, regardless of how devastatingly attractive she found the raven-haired woman to be. There was something addictive about the small-town mayor that was at odds with the life she and Henry had built in their one year in New York. The past few days had been an unexpected interruption from her routine, but Regina was only a piece of that.

Emma raised her hand in the air to hail a passing cab. Her other hand, stuffed in the front pocket of her wool jacket, curled around a piece of paper.

A yellow car came to a stop in front of her, and she slid into the backseat of the taxi. 

“Where to?” the driver asked, glancing at his passenger in the rearview mirror.

Emma’s hand tightened around the small scrap of paper. “89 Wooster Street.”

+++

Regina slipped oversized sunglasses over her eyes as she stepped out on the sidewalk in front of her Midtown hotel. If she had had a choice, she would have remained in bed all day, ordering room service and nursing both her hangover and her bruised ego. Instead, she was meeting up with Ursula to figure out what to do about Walsh and Hook.

The aquarium employee was waiting at a corner bakery, sipping hot coffee and picking at a blueberry muffin when Regina arrived. Regina slid into the vacant seat at the small table for two, sunglasses still firmly in place despite being inside.

Ursula's eyes scanned over the former queen, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance. Even a long shower hadn't been able to erase completely the remnants of a long night of drinking.

"Rough morning?" Ursula chuckled.

Regina hung her head. "I think your alcohol is stronger in New York than in Storybrooke."

"Or you're getting older," Ursula mused. “We’re not 21 anymore.”

Regina wrinkled her nose. "Don't remind me."

"So what happened last night?"

"I apparently got a little too aggressive with the mini bar," Regina admitted. "I thought I could out drink Emma—get her to pass out—and then find out what was on that piece of paper Hook gave her."

"Let me guess," Ursula smirked, “your little blonde friend was more resilient than you thought."

"Understatement," Regina frowned.

"So you still don't know what Hook is doing here and why he's been talking to Emma."

"No. But I will." Regina massaged her temples. "And in the meantime, I need you to keep an eye on this Walsh person. He practically throttled me two nights ago and told me to stay away from Emma. I think it was more than just the actions of a jealous boyfriend."

Ursula laughed, deep and throaty. "That man should thank his stars you don't have your magic."

Regina's lips pursed. There were many things that would have gone down differently since she'd arrived in New York if she'd had her magic. 

"Last night, Emma and I were attacked by a flying monkey.”

"Flying monkey?” Ursula's eyebrows rose on her forehead. “Was this before or after you got drunk?"

"Before. I know it sounds crazy," Regina's mouth twisted in annoyance, "but I know what I saw, and I'm nearly certain it was Walsh trying to scare me off."

"Honey, I've learned by now that just about anything is possible,” Ursula remarked. “But if this world has had magic all this time, and I've been living on ramen, I'm going to be pissed."

Regina thought about the white crackle of energy that had been created when she'd touched Emma. When Henry had been in danger of being mugged, she hadn't been able to conjure so much as a spark, but she'd practically created lightning just from contact with the Savior. 

She stared at a tea light on the cafe table. Its wick was white, never having been lit. She focused her energies on the tip of the waxy string. She corralled her emotions, pinpointing on anger, but the candle remained unlit. Regina pushed out a deep sigh when nothing happened.

"I'll text you the address of Walsh's store,” she said. “Keep an eye on him and call me if anything out of the ordinary happens."

“Like if I see him turn into a monkey with wings?” Ursula chuckled.

“Exactly.” Regina stood from the table.

Ursula looked up at the standing woman. "And then you'll take me to Storybrooke?"

Regina thought about Snow White and her reluctance to let another self-identified villain into their seaside town. But then she took in the rumpled, stained khaki uniform and the deep circles beneath Ursula’s eyes. She observed the way shaky hands curled around a comforting cup of coffee. Once a force to be reckoned with, the former sea queen had been reduced to a far more humble existence in this land. 

That could have been me, came Regina’s sobering thought. 

"And then I’ll take you to Storybrooke," Regina vowed.

Regina still had no idea, how Ursula came to be in New York and not in Storybrooke with the rest of them. But she had enough mysteries on her plate for now. 

Her phone rang in her coat pocket as she exited the corner bakery. She didn’t recognize the number, but there was really only one person whose number wasn’t programmed into her phone that could be calling her: Emma. 

She answered the phone with mounting anxiety. 

“Regina, are you still in town?” came the Savior’s breathy question.

“Just.”

“I need to see you.”

Regina stopped on the sidewalk. “Emma, I can’t—.”

“I know you’re a very important, very busy person,” Emma hastily cut her off, “but this is important.”

“How’s Henry?” Regina worried aloud.

“He’s fine,” Emma assured her. “But I need to see you.”

Regina hesitated. She was supposed to be avoiding Emma and her son, but she had no leads on how to find Hook other than wander around the largest city in the country and hope she randomly bumped into the pirate. She could just ask Emma outright about Hook. 

“Where and when?” she asked.

“Boathouse. Half an hour.”

+++

For the second time in as many days, Regina found herself seated at a table for two in the famed Central Park restaurant and bar. Beyond the wall of windows, the small pond that surrounded the boathouse was frozen. It had been a mild winter and the thin ice was cleared of snow. In the center of the inlet was a rowboat with an evergreen tree sticking out of the middle. 

Around her the quiet murmur of conversations filled the air, punctuated by the polite sound of eating utensils delicately moving against china plates. Her stomach growled as she waited for Emma’s arrival. She hadn’t been able to think about food earlier in the day, but now that a few hours had passed and her body had adjusted, she realized she hadn’t eaten yet.

Regina looked up from the menu when she spotted a familiar flash of blonde hair. She watched Emma scan the intimate venue, looking for her. When their eyes met, a tight smile reached Emma’s lips. If Regina hadn’t known any better, it looked like beneath her black trench, Emma was wearing the green dress from the night before. She hadn’t been home yet to change.

Regina stood up from her chair, a little wobbly in her heels. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Emma returned. She sat in the seat across from Regina and the other woman returned to her chair. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Regina reflexively offered. She lifted her head to catch the attention of a passing waiter. 

“Just water, thanks.”

“Don’t tell me last night’s got you shying away from alcohol,” Regina teased. “You seemed fine earlier.” 

“I know.” Emma raked her fingers through her hair, a wild nest of blonde curls. “I’ve got a pretty good poker face.”

“Apparently.” 

Emma cleared her throat. “Thanks for meeting with me.” 

“Of course,” Regina replied. “I was just on my way out of town,” she lied, “but you sounded a little panicked on the phone.”

“Well I’m glad you stuck around to see me.” Emma clasped Regina's hand on top of the table. ". . . Madam Mayor."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

" _Thanks for meeting with me."_

_Emma clasped Regina's hand on top of the table._

_". . . Madam Mayor."_

* * *

Regina's eyes widened. "You-you remember?" she gasped. "How …"

"Hook," Emma revealed. "He had a potion that brought my memories back."

Regina tried pulling her hand back, but Emma only latched onto her wrist tighter. "What's wrong, Regina?" she quietly taunted. "Not so eager to hold my hand now that I remember you?"

"I—I ..." Regina stumbled out. She couldn't wrap her brain around what was happening. She thought about Emma's earlier comment about having a good poker face. "When did you know? Last night?"

"No. I called you as soon as I took Hook's potion." Emma leaned forward, continuing to hold Regina's wrist in a tight, unrelenting hold. "Why are you here, Regina?" she demanded. "And how did you find me?"

Regina's head spun with too many of her own questions to think about Emma's. "Does Henry … does he remember, too?" she asked.

Emma finally dropped the other woman's hand. "No." She leaned back in her chair, aggression melting from her body at the mere mention of Henry. "There was only enough memory potion for one person."

"Of course," Regina stiffly replied. "Because that would be my Fate."

"You still haven't told me why you're here."

"I wanted to see Henry." Regina felt her lower lip tremble. She bit down on it to keep her emotions contained. "I tried keeping my distance. But neither of you were supposed to remember me, so it shouldn't have mattered if I got too close."

"You were—what—stalking us?" Emma nearly shouted. She was mindful they were in public, and she didn't want to draw unwanted attention to their conversation in case someone overheard words like  _Magic_ ,  _Curse_ , and  _Evil Queen_.

"I was  _observing_ , Miss Swan. Nothing more invasive than a traditional stakeout, I assure you."

"Okay, so you wanted to see Henry. I get that. But how are you even here in this world? Hook said you'd all been cursed again. Is that true?"

Regina brushed her long bangs away from her forehead. "The pirate didn't lie; Storybrooke is back. But none of us know who cast this new curse, and we can't remember anything about the year we were in the Enchanted Forest." She frowned deeply. "The last thing I remember is watching you and Henry driving away in that horrible little car of yours. And then I was waking up in my bed in Storybrooke, not in my castle."

"How unpleasant for you," Emma scowled.

Regina slammed her clenched fist on the table, causing their water glasses to wobble. "Don't you  _dare_  be cavalier about this, Miss Swan," she hissed. "There are a great many people who gave up a great deal so you could be in this place with Henry with your new life and your new memories."

"I never asked for these fake memories!" Emma hotly protested. "That was all you."

"Because I didn't want you to be in pain anymore," Regina snapped.

"Me or Henry?" Emma shot back.

"Both of you. I didn't want Henry to miss what he'd had in Storybrooke, and you had already suffered enough by my hand because of the original curse."

Emma tried to ignore what Regina was revealing. Kindness—even compassion— coming from Regina Mills, was something to which she was not accustomed. She raked her fingers through her hair, still wild from a morning of not being properly brushed. "How crazy is it that we have to differentiate between curses?" she shakily laughed.

"I know," Regina solemnly agreed.

"So, uh, what now?" Emma had met up with Regina to confront the other woman, and now that she had, she didn't know what the next step was.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Regina retrieved the menu she had previously been looking at. "How about lunch?"

Emma snorted. "Really? Lunch?"

Regina pursed her lips. "I'm not avoiding the elephant in the room, but I'd rather deal with it when there's food in my stomach."

Emma fiddled with her water glass. "What's the elephant?"

"If you're going to keep your memories."

"What? Of course I am!" Emma protested. "Why the hell wouldn't I?"

Regina carefully closed her menu. "You're going to be able to continue living in this city knowing we're bumbling around in Storybrooke?"

Emma scratched at the back of her neck. "Oh. I, uh, I thought I was supposed to help you guys figure out the curse and what happened in the missing year. I'm the Savior, aren't I?"

"Indeed." Regina made a humming noise. "But maybe this second curse requires a different kind of Savior, dear."

* * *

Killian Jones looked far too comfortable on Emma's couch. Those were the first thoughts that came to Regina's head as she entered the apartment Emma and Henry had turned into a home over the past year.

The eager look on the pirate's face was replaced with distain when he realized Emma hadn't come home alone. "You brought _her_?"

Emma held up a hand. "Don't start with me, Hook."

Regina looked around the apartment. "Where's Henry?"

"He's at a friend's house," Emma said, slipping out of her winter jacket and throwing it over the back of a chair in the living room. "Which reminds me, I have to see if Mrs. Cuse can check in on him while we're gone."

"Wait—you're planning on leaving him here?" Regina gaped. "In New York?"

"He's old enough to babysit himself," Emma explained. "And who knows how long this second curse mystery is going to take? I can't just uproot him from his school and his friends."

Regina gave Emma an incredulous look. "I sent you away with our son with a new set of memories so he'd never be alone. Now you want to entrust him to a stranger's care?"

"Mrs. Cuse isn't a stranger," Emma defended. "She's been my neighbor for the past year."

"We have no idea how long it will take to figure out this second curse," Regina said, her ire rising. "And since you insist on tagging along and playing hero—"

"Okay, fine," Emma interrupted before Regina could go on another rant. "Henry can come. I just thought maybe it would be easier for you."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "For me?"

"Henry doesn't know who you really are," Emma unnecessarily reminded her. "I thought . . . I thought maybe that would be really difficult. I didn't want to make this any harder on you than it has to be."

"While I appreciate your concern, Miss Swan, I'm perfectly capable of schooling my emotions."

Emma cocked her head to the side. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Call me 'Miss Swan' whenever you get pissed."

"Then I must never use your first name," Regina mused.

Emma's cell phone rang in her hand. She made a face when she looked at the flashing screen. "I have to take this call. I'll be right back." She looked between the pirate and the former evil queen. "You two … try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

Regina turned on her heel when Emma disappeared into her bedroom to answer the phone call. She stuck a manicured fingernail into the center of Hook's chest. " _You_ have a lot of explaining to do."

Hook looked startled. "What? Me?"

"Memory potion?" Regina spat out. "How the hell did you get your fish hook on one of those?"

"Would you believe me if I said a little bird?" Hook looked mildly amused. "It found me on the Jolly Roger after I left you and the other sad sacks. It had the potion and a note that I needed to find Emma."

Regina's brow furrowed. "A bird?" she repeated. "That sounds like Snow's work. Wait," she said, realizing something. "How do you remember any of this when the rest of us can't remember what happened in the last year?"

Only then did Hook look uncomfortable. "I guess the curse skipped me." His smile looked uneasy. "Lucky me."

"What do you know?" Regina demanded, instantly suspicious. None of this was making sense, and what little patience she had was rapidly unraveling. "Did you do something, pirate?"

"I'm in the dark like the rest of you about this curse," Killian insisted. "I can remember the last year, but nothing about what happened to you and the others. We were on our way to your castle when I decided to take off on my own."

"Back to your ship I suppose."

"Aye," he confirmed. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."

"I bet you are," Regina huffed.

Emma returned to the living room, and, ignoring the apartment's two other occupants, she strode purposefully to the kitchen and pulled open a cabinet over the refrigerator to produce a bottle of whiskey. She twisted off the cap and took a quick swig from the bottle. She sighed and set the bottle on the kitchen counter. The bottle knocked noisily on the granite.

"You mind, love?" Killian questioned with a gesture towards the alcohol.

Emma grunted and slid the glass container towards the man. He caught the bottle as it threatened to pass and brought the whiskey to his lips with one smooth motion.

"Your Majesty?" he said, offering the bottle to Regina next.

Regina wrinkled her nose. Her stomach still churned from her overindulgence the previous night. "No thank you."

Emma's laughter sounded like a machine gun. "Don't tell me you're off of the bottle forever because of last night?"

Killian arched an eyebrow. "Last night? What did I miss?"

"Nothing. Who was on the phone?" Regina asked, changing the subject. It was embarrassing enough that Emma had seen her like that without Killian Jones knowing about it, too.

Emma dropped the taunt at the tip of her tongue. "Walsh. I told him what was happening, and he wants to come with."

"To Storybrooke?" Killian asked.

Regina's eyes widened. "You told him?  _Everything_?"

"No! Of course not. I told him you had a job for me in your town."

"And he wants to tag along? Why?" Regina was instantly suspicious.

"Because he's my boyfriend," Emma reasoned, "and he'll miss me if I'm gone for that long."

"He told me to stay away from you," Regina revealed.

Emma's features scrunched in confusion. "He did? When?" She had no reason not to believe Regina.

"When he showed up unexpectedly at the hotel bar that night." Regina let the story end there. She didn't need to tell Emma that she had lured the man there purposefully. "He told me to stay away from you."

Emma continued to look perplex. "I'm sure he had his reasons."

"And what reasons might those be, love?" Killian implored.

Emma's eyes involuntarily flicked over to Regina in her high-heels and impeccably tailored outfit. Beneath the raven-haired woman's wool trench coat she wore a grey pencil skirt and dark nylons. Emma's thoughts lingered on the memory of the tight abdomen hidden beneath Regina's navy blue blouse. Her eyes focused on the third button that strained to contain two creamy white breasts. What if Walsh had somehow sensed her attraction to the other woman? What if that had been the catalyst for the possessive response?

"Listen, there's no agenda with Walsh. He's a good guy," Emma defended after clearing her throat. "He doesn't know me as the Savior, or the kid of Snow White and Prince Charming, or whatever; he only knows Emma Swan. And that's kind of nice."

" _Nice_ ," Regina repeated with distain.

"More like  _boring_ ," Killian snorted.

"Driving arrangements?" Emma asked, changing the topic.

"I've got the Mercedes," Regina noted.

"And I've got the Bug." Emma turned to Hook. "Where's the Jolly Roger?"

The muscles in Killian's jaw flexed and clenched. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Walsh and Henry can go in the Bug with me," Emma planned. "So that leaves—"

Regina and Killian spoke at the same time: "No."

Emma rolled her eyes. She could have predicted this would happen. "Oh come on, you guys. If we're going to get to the bottom of this, we've got to put aside old grudges. We've got to work together, and that means riding in a car for a few hours together."

"Fine. The pirate can come with me," Regina reluctantly agreed. "But we have one more person to pick up before we can begin our road trip."

"Who?" Emma asked.

"You might have heard of her," Regina said with a small smile. "Her name is Ursula."

* * *

 TBC

Next chapter: ROAD TRIP!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a number of questions about why Regina hasn't told Emma about Walsh being a monkey yet, so I wrote this to kind of explain my thinking on that one.

**Chapter 10**

Killian Jones leaned forward between the two front seats and reached for the radio dial in the center console.  
  
"Touch that, pirate, and you'll lose your other hand," Regina said stonily as she watched the red taillights of Emma's yellow Bug.

Killian's fingers stopped just short of the buttons before he pulled his hand back and returned to the backseat.  
  
Ursula stared out the front passenger window with her arms folded across her chest. "I can't believe I'm stuck with the two of you. Has-been villains. Perfectly pathetic," she grumbled. "I think I prefer cleaning tanks at the aquarium."  
  
"Speak for yourself, love," Killian interjected from the backseat. "I was never quite evil, just a pirate."  
  
"Right. A thief with a boat," Ursula snorted.  
  
"A _ship_."  
  
"Where's your ship now, Captain?" Ursula snapped back.  
  
"Keep it up, calamari," Killian threatened.  
  
"Will you two stop squabbling? You're worse than children," Regina steamed. Her leather gloves gripped the steering wheel tightly, making an audible creaking noise.  
  
"How else are we to pass the time if you won't allow any music?" Killian complained.  
  
"We make plans," Regina said. “We start figuring out this new curse and what happened during that missing year. What do you know about Emma’s boyfriend, Hook?”  
  
Killian's features scrunched in confusion. “Tall, lanky wanker?”  
  
Regina couldn’t help her smile. “That sounds about right.”  
  
“Nothing out of the ordinary there," Killian remarked.  
  
Regina flicked her hair out of her eyes. “I think that’s where you’re wrong.”  
  
"If that man is evil," Ursula interjected, "he's the most boring villain in the books. When I was watching him all he did was tend his store and smile stupidly at clients."  
  
Emma had a gift for knowing if people were lying to her or not. How could she have tied herself to someone like Walsh? Regina thought about the flash of green she’d seen in Walsh's eyes when he’d confronted her and had told her to stay away from Emma; it had been the same color of their winged primate attacker. The monkey hadn’t been a figment of her imagination; Emma had seen it as well. But had she _imagined_ that gleam in Walsh’s eyes? Did she want Walsh to turn out to be something other than advertised simply because he was Emma’s boyfriend?

Before Regina could continue their conversation, her cell phone rang with an incoming call from Emma. "What?" she answered with impatience. They'd been driving for little more than an hour and she was already annoyed with their road trip.  
  
"Henry's hungry,” Emma said, ignoring the shortness of Regina’s demeanor. “Are you guys cool to stop someplace for dinner?"  
  
"You really want to bring this little freak show of ours to a restaurant?"  
  
"I'm not talking about a candlelight dinner, Regina. Fast food."  
  
"You feed our son trans-fat garbage?" Regina chastised.  
  
"It's just this once," Emma defended. "Besides, like you said, we shouldn't risk..." She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence with both Henry and Walsh in earshot.  
  
"Fine," Regina sighed. "Next roadside trough you see, we can stop."  
  
"And we should probably look for a place to spend the night," Emma added. "I don't think we can make it straight through tonight."  
  
"Storybrooke's not that far," Regina protested.  
  
"Storybrooke will still be there in the morning, Regina."  
  
"Alright," she huffed. "I suppose one more night won't hurt."  
  
"You're being awfully agreeable," Emma observed, a smile in her tone.  
  
"I'm hanging up now," Regina snapped. "I have to call your parents and let them know when to expect us."  
  
Regina was tempted to throw her phone out the car window, but she reigned in her quickly unraveling emotions. This is why she preferred being one of the Bad Guys. Villains tended to work alone; too many egos were counterproductive to evil plans. Heroes used teamwork though, and she was finding all of this togetherness insufferable.

* * *

It was a sun-soaked, warm evening, and rather than sit inside the roadside diner, the group ate their cheeseburgers and fries outside at picnic tables in a rest stop surrounded by a thick forest. Henry, Emma, and Walsh sat together at one of the picnic tables, laughing and tossing French fries to squirrels. Killian and Ursula had disappeared nearly the moment their food had come. Nothing had happened yet to make Regina second-guess allowing Ursula to come back with them, but it was only a matter of time.

Regina sat at a table by herself with a white takeout bag, marbled with grease stains. She took off her leather driving gloves and peered between the top and bottom bun of her hamburger. She wrinkled her nose at the unrefined mess. Fast food was so pedestrian.

"So who's the perp?" a young voice asked.  
  
Regina looked up from her mangled burger. "Excuse me?"  
  
Henry's inquisitive eyes regarded her. "You hired my mom to find someone, right? What's the case?"  
  
The gears in Regina's brain churned rapidly when Henry took a seat at the wooden table across from her, but the lies couldn’t come fast enough. "Oh, uh...It's actually more of a job interview," Regina said. "I'm the mayor of my town, and we're in need of a new sheriff." She had yet to speak with Emma about if she was planning on returning to New York City when all of this was over, but this lie would at least buy them some time.  
  
Henry frowned. "My mom said you had a job for her. I thought maybe your boyfriend or something jumped bail."  
  
Regina tried not to smile at the thought. "No. Nothing like that,” she said, her tone becoming more warm and gentle. “Storybook is in need of a new sheriff, and after meeting your mom, I thought she might do a good job."  
  
Even when she'd loathed Emma's existence, Regina could admit that Sheriff Swan had been an adequate law enforcement officer. Her methods had been a little unorthodox, but she'd gotten the job done. It must have been all that Hero DNA in her blood.  
  
Her answer seemed to satisfy Henry for the moment. "Oh. Cool." Luckily he hadn't inherited his birth mother's secret power. "So we would, like, move to your town?"  
  
Regina opened her mouth, but Emma's boots crunched on the underbrush before she could reply. "What are you guys talking about over here?"  
  
"Mrs. Mills said she wants you to be her sheriff," Henry spoke up.  
  
Emma raised a pale eyebrow. "Oh, she did?"  
  
"I was just telling Henry that you’re coming to Storybrooke as a kind of audition for the position,” Regina explained. “And you don't have to be so formal with me, Henry," she added. "My mother is Mrs. Mills, not me."  
  
"Okay,” Henry agreed. “What should I call you instead?"  
  
_Mom._ Regina coughed delicately. "Um, Regina's fine." She stared down at the picnic table and at her cooling dinner. The cheese on her cheeseburger was beginning to coagulate. She refused to look in Emma's direction, sure of the guilt and sympathy she'd find there. She didn't want that from anyone, least of all from Emma.  
  
Emma cleared her throat. "I was talking to one of the waitresses inside," she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the roadside diner. "She said there's a motel a few miles down the road. Nothing fancy, but the beds are clean."  
  
“That sounds fine,” Regina said, still staring at the wooden picnic table. She ran her fingertips over a deep grove where someone had carved their initials into the table.

"Are you gonna eat that?"  
  
Regina finally looked up when she realized Henry was speaking to her. "Oh, um, no."  
  
"Can I give it to the squirrels?" he asked with a broad, dimpled smile.  
  
Regina couldn't recall having seen a smile that large on Henry’s face in years—not in the years leading up to the curse being broken, at least.

It killed her to interact with her son and not have him know who she was, but the price of her happiness was in Henry's smile. He only knew a world where his birth mother had loved him enough to keep him. He had never been orphaned or had felt unloved. She saw Emma in that smile.  
  
"Go ahead, kid," Emma approved when it was clear that Regina was too overwhelmed with emotion to respond.  
  
Henry glanced again in Regina's direction, and she finally nodded, still unable to vocalize her consent.  
  
Henry eagerly grabbed the bag that held Regina's mostly untouched dinner and ran off to feed the squirrels.  
  
"Sorry," Regina said, hastily wiping at eyes that had unwilling grown damp.  
  
"You're fine, Regina," Emma assured her. "I know this is hard."  
  
"There's still time," Regina said thickly.  
  
Emma sat down, sensing Regina wanted to talk about something serious. "To do what?"  
  
"To go back to New York. You and Henry, you don't have to come. I’m sure we can figure out this curse on our own."  
  
"I'm the Savior,” Emma remarked. “Do I have a choice?"  
  
"There's always a choice," Regina countered.  
  
"I don't see it that way."  
  
Emma picked at the peeling brown varnish at the edge of the picnic bench. She didn't want to admit it, especially not to Regina, but being the Savior had brought purpose to her otherwise unexceptional life. If she turned back now instead of helping out the people in Storybrooke, she would still have Henry, but she would also still have her memories and the knowledge that when her family needed her, she'd selfishly chosen herself over them.  
  
Regina rolled her eyes. "You Charmings are all alike."  
  
Emma's smile returned. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

The sounds of laughter drew both women’s attention away from the conversation. Across the rest stop, Henry and Walsh tossed bits of hamburger bun to a pair of squirrels. 

Regina watched the lanky man and her son with growing trepidation. “Emma, about Walsh—”

“I know,” Emma jumped in before Regina could continue. “It was probably a bad idea to let him come along. But he gave me these sad puppy dog eyes, and I just couldn’t say no,” she said, shaking her head. “We’re going to have to be really careful when we get to Storybrooke.”

“Do you trust him?” Regina pressed.

Emma’s forehead crunched. “He hasn’t given me a reason not to?”

Regina tucked her lower lip into her mouth. She wanted to tell Emma about her suspicions, but what if she had been wrong about the man? What if she’d misinterpreted everything because of some unfounded jealousy or maternal instinct need to protect Henry? When she’d given Henry and Emma new memories, it had been about giving Emma a second chance as much as it had been for Henry. And if she told Emma that she thought Walsh was a flying monkey, she might ruin this tenuous ceasefire that was occurring between them.

“We should probably get going,” Regina announced.  

“Are you sure? You barely ate any food,” Emma pointed out.

Regina stood from the picnic table and brushed her hands over the front of her dress pants. “I would hardly call what we just had food, dear.”

+++

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Well this is charming," Regina muttered as she stepped out of her Mercedes.

The Pines Ridge Inn was a dilapidated little roadside motel that had seen better days. The blacktop parking lot was uneven and filled with potholes, and the water in the kidney-shaped outdoor pool glowed an unnatural green color. Neon pink lettering flickered on the motel's signage, indicating that rooms were available.

Emma stood staring at the single-story motel, her hands on her hips. "We're in the middle of nowhere, Regina," she said, shaking her head. "I doubt there's a five-star hotel between here and Storybrooke. You should just be thankful we're not camping."

"I grew up in a world without indoor plumbing," Regina sniffed. "I think I can handle a little camping."

An amused smile curled the ends of Emma's mouth. "Careful, I might call your bluff on that one of these days."

"I'll go see about rooms," Regina grumbled on her way to the front office. "Hopefully this relic takes credit cards."

Ursula and Hook climbed out of Regina's car and stretched their limbs.

"Nothing like the stench of mothballs to make a girl feel at home," Ursula remarked. "Although I'd wager it's a step up from the snake pits you've called home, Killian."

"Steady there, lass," Hook uttered in warning.

Henry inspected the two adults who seemed the misfits of the road trip group. No one had explained exactly who they were or why they were part of the group. Then again, no one had bothered to explain much to Henry about this unexpected detour from his life in New York. "Who are you guys again?" he asked.

"The name's Killian. Killian Jones." Hook bowed with his usual flourish.

Henry scrutinized Hook's features with his usual curiosity. "Are you wearing makeup?"

The smile dropped from the pirate's face. "Funny lad."

Henry turned his attention next to the former sea queen. "What about you?"

"The name's Ursula." The former sea queen surveyed their surroundings with barely contained disdain.

"Is that your real name?" Henry posed.

"Why? Do you have a problem with it?" Ursula challenged.

"No, it's just a little weird. Did your parents name you after the octopus in the  _Little Mermaid_  or are you too old for that movie?"

Ursula eyeballed the teenaged boy. "You ask a lot of questions."

"I like knowing what's going on," Henry responded with an unaffected shrug.

Regina exited the motel office, her high heels clicking on the broken pavement. "I got us three rooms," she announced. "Ursula and I can share a room. Emma and Henry. And Killian and …" she forced herself to keep a neutral tone. "Walsh."

"But I'm with Emma," Walsh interjected.

"No you're not," Regina retorted.

Regina stared at Emma expectantly. Without words, Emma knew the other woman would never tolerate letting Henry stay in a room with her and Walsh. It had been a miracle she had allowed the greasy-spoon diner food for dinner.

Emma snagged the dangling room key from Regina. "It's just one night, Walsh. We all have to make some sacrifices."

Regina couldn't help tossing a particularly smug smile in Walsh's direction.

* * *

Emma tilted her head to one side and made a noise of satisfaction when she heard and felt her neck crack. She would never admit it, especially not to Regina, but road trips in her beloved yellow bug were not ideal on her body.

She inspected her reflection in the dingy mirror above the sink in her motel room's bathroom. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she was on top of the world. She and Henry had been happy—not just content—but truly happy with their lives. Once all of her memories came rushing back, however, all of that had changed. She had a responsibility to people beyond herself and Henry. She had the burden of being the Savior, itself a kind of double-edged blessing and curse. She had a family now, but with that came more complications than she could ever have imagined.

Emma didn't worry about getting to the bottom of this second curse. She and her friends and family had weathered worse. They'd crossed realms and had defeated Peter Pan. A cursed Storybrooke felt like amateur stuff compared to that. She'd already broken one curse anyway. More troublesome was the realization that once they broke this second curse, she had a difficult decision to make. Would she and Henry return to the life Regina had made for them in New York? Or would they remain in Storybrooke?

Outside of the motel bathroom, Emma found Henry had already claimed one of the double beds as his own. She grabbed the television remote and flipped through the few channels, but, finding nothing of interest, turned the TV off.

Emma sat down on the edge of one of the empty double bed. "So we haven't had a chance to really talk about this road trip."

Henry propped his hands under his head like a pillow and stared at the ceiling. "I thought you liked your job in New York."

"I did. I  _do_ ," Emma corrected. "But a little change might be nice."

"Do you really want to be a cop?" Henry asked.

"Did I ever think I'd be in this position when I was your age? Absolutely not. But a little change might be nice. And it would be better job security than what I've been doing lately."

"In Maine."

"In Maine," Emma echoed with a nod. "Do you really like New York?"

"I guess," Henry responded noncommittally. "It's where my school and my friends are."

"I know, but I want you to keep an open mind when we get to Storybrooke. Give it a chance, okay?"

"Okay," Henry agreed. "But can I get a new PlayStation?"

Emma chuckled at the question. "No, you may not."

She wanted to say something on behalf of Regina, but she didn't know what or how. Before she could think very hard, however, she heard a light knock on the door.

The door had no peephole and the windows at the front of the motel room were angled in a way that made it impossible to see who was standing out in front. After taking quick mental inventory of herself, Emma opened the door.

"Hey, beautiful." Walsh's leaned his lanky body against the doorframe.

"Hey, you." Emma tugged on her ponytail. In an old t-shirt and sweatpants, with her hair tossed up in a messy ponytail, she felt far from beautiful.

"Think you can get away for a few minutes?" Walsh smiled benignly. "It's a beautiful night. I thought maybe we could go for a walk."

Emma glanced back into the room. Henry continued to stare at the ceiling, a thoughtful look on his face. "I wish I could, Walsh, but I don't really feel comfortable leaving Henry in the room by himself."

"So drop him off at one of the other rooms," Walsh suggested. "I'm sure Regina wouldn't mind looking after him."

"No. She's probably already sleeping. I don't want to bother her."

"We've hardly seen each other the past few days." Walsh frowned and tipped his chin down. His long, shaggy hair fell in front of his eyes. "I miss you."

"I know. Things have been crazy these past few days. And now Regina's got this job for me…" Emma trailed off, not sure what else to say. She felt guilty for keeping so many important details from Walsh, but it was for the best she told herself. The truth was messy and complicated and something she couldn't deal with for the moment.

Walsh stood to his full height and crossed his arms across his chest. "What exactly is it that you're doing for her?"

"I, uh, it's hard to explain."

"Try me," he coaxed with a smile. "I'm a pretty smart guy."

"It's just a job," Emma dismissed. "It's super boring bails bonds person stuff."

Walsh's features narrowed in genuine concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course it is," Emma replied a little too quickly for her own ears. "I'm just tired," she insisted. "It's been a long day, and we'll have an even longer day tomorrow."

"Okay, I get it. But you can't blame a guy for trying." Walsh leaned forward for a kiss, and unlike her, Emma leaned back.

The tall man's features crumpled in confusion. Emma put her hand over her mouth. "Onions," she hastily explained. "There were so many onions on my burger. I'll see you in the morning." The motel room door shut in Walsh's face before he could utter another complaint.

Emma released a long breath and leaned against the backside of the door. She couldn't rationalize why she had just denied Walsh a simple kiss, but she chalked it up to confusion about what their future held. Her head was too busy, too loud.

"Hey, Henry?"

"Yeah?"

She grabbed the ice bucket off the bureau beside her. "I'm gonna get some ice. I'll be right back."

Outside of her motel room, the night air was mild, but brought goosebumps to her arms in her short-sleeved t-shirt. She found the ice machine near the motel office and took a detour on her way back to her and Henry's room.

She knocked tentatively on the motel room door with the number 4 hanging from it. She heard the rustle of movement coming from inside the room until the door swung open.

"Hey," she greeted.

Regina's peered out into the night. She couldn't fathom why Emma was knocking on her room door at this hour. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Emma's eyes raked down Regina's body. "Do you always dress so fancy for bed?"

"No." Regina self-consciously pulled the neckline of her nightgown higher on her clavicle, which only succeeded in tugging it higher up her bare thighs, an action not entirely lost on the blonde woman.

"Right. How could I forget?" Emma clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Sometimes you just pass out in your underwear."

Regina curled up her lip in disdain. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Emma's grin was wide. "Nope."

"I'll assume you had an actual purpose for stopping by beyond commenting on my sleepwear?" Regina asked in an impatient tone.

"Yeah, uh, I just forgot to ask what time you want to hit the road in the morning."

"I'm not sure. I'm an early riser, but I know Henry isn't."

"He'll be fine," Emma dismissed. "He can sleep in the car."

"Okay. On the road by 8:00 a.m. then?"

"Sounds good to me."

"I'm actually glad you stopped by," Regina announced.

"Yeah?" The hopefulness in Emma's voice embarrassed her; she prayed Regina hadn't heard the excited lilt.

"We should probably get our story straight about why exactly you're coming to Storybrooke. Henry's been asking questions."

"So has Walsh," Emma noted.

"What does he want to know?"

"Think you two can take your conversation someplace else?" Ursula's voice carried through the doorway. "Some of us actually like to sleep."

Regina's head whipped in the direction of the disembodied voice. "Don't make me regret not throwing you back under the sea," she snapped.

Despite her threat, Regina stepped outside and partially closed the hotel room door behind her, careful not to lock herself out.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" Emma worried.

"I'll be fine," Regina stubbornly insisted despite giving her arms a brisk rub.

"I'd give you my shirt," Emma casually offered, "but I'm not wearing a bra, so…"

Regina's eyes inadvertently darted to Emma's chest. "I-I'm really okay," she stumbled. "But back to Walsh."

Emma tugged on her ponytail and made a noise of frustration. "I realized now that it was stupid and short-sighted to have let him come along. It's bad enough having to watch what I say in front of Henry let alone another set of ears."

"But you like him?" Regina pressed. "You-you trust him? Even now that you've got your memories back?"

"I do," Emma confirmed. "You'll probably think it's stupid, but it's kind of nice having someone in my life that's not a fairytale character. It makes me feel almost normal. And since he doesn't really know who I am, I don't have to worry that he likes me just because I'm the Savior or because I'm Snow White's kid or something."

"No. That's not dumb," Regina said quietly.

As someone betrothed to the king of her realm, Regina had constantly been wary of anyone who tried to get close to her. She perpetually doubted their motives. Even her mother— _especially_  her mother—she could never be sure if her mother's attempts to reconcile were born of maternal love or the desire to be close to the crown.

Regina cleared her throat. "We should probably talk about living arrangements while we're at it."

"Oh, I kinda just assumed we'd stay at Granny's."

"It's a little crowded there, actually. More people from the Enchanted Forest are in Storybrooke. And since I didn't include them in the First Curse, most of them don't have a place to stay in this world."

Emma's lips formed a silent o. "I never thought about of that."

"My guess is it's one of the new people who enacted the second curse," Regina voiced.

"What about motive?" Emma reasoned.

Regina sighed. "Your parents and I have been over that again and again, but without our memories from the past year, I'm afraid we keep hitting dead ends."

"So we get your memories back."

"We thought of that, too. But it's a little more complicated than that. Magic exists in Storybrooke, but it's a limited magic. For as all-powerful as I seem, even I can only do so many things."

"Maybe I can help," Emma offered. "You know—Captain Planet—with our powers combined kind of stuff. It can't hurt to try, right?"

Regina hummed. "Maybe."

Emma scratched at her head. "I guess Henry and I could stay with my parents. Maybe Walsh could bunk with Hook or something."

Regina bit the inside of her lip. Emma didn't know about the coming addition to Snow and Charming's family. It wasn't her place to tell her about the pregnancy, but she still felt the nagging tug of guilt for withholding that important piece of information. "That could work. I suppose I'll have to let Ursula room with me until she gets more settled."

"Yeah, it's not like you don't have the room."

"I'd offer to let you and Henry stay, but that might be…"

"Awkward," Emma finished for her. "Yeah. Because of Henry. His old room. Probably for the best…"

"Right. You should stay with your parents," Regina hastily agreed.

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She felt unwontedly awkward around Regina these days, and it didn't help that the raven-haired woman was wearing little more than a lavendar-colored slip. She didn't know where her eyes should go. "I should probably get back to my room."

"Right. Your ice is melting," Regina observed.

Emma quietly laughed, a little self-consciously. "See you in the morning, Regina."

"Good night, Emma," Regina returned.

Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched Emma retreat to her respective motel room. She was eager to return to Storybrooke and get on with her life. She hoped that once home, and no longer in disequilibrium because of her surroundings, she'd be able to shake what she could only describe as a crush on one Emma Swan.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for everyone's patience. Between finishing up my latest novel, Bittersweet Homecoming, and a few out-of-town trips, time for writing fan fiction has been limited.
> 
> The remainder of this story will be loosely based on what happened with Zalena and the second curse in season 3B, but I won't be doing an episode rewrite. I've got other plans for these two. Canon will sneak in when it suits the story.

**Chapter 12**

 

Emma held her breath as she drove over the town line and entered Storybrooke, Maine. She pulled her Bug to a stop just on the other side of the magically-enforced boundary and waited to make sure Regina's Mercedes wouldn't have any problems crossing over either.

Her car idled, and she watched in her rearview mirror as the black sedan drove unencumbered and passed her stalled vehicle. She and Regina shared a grim, determined look as they passed each other on the road.  _They were back._

Emma flexed her fingers around the steering wheel. She didn't feel any different. It shouldn't have surprised her though; she'd felt no magical tingling the very first time she and Henry had driven into the small seaside town, but this time should have been different: she was the Savior. Unlike when Henry had brought her here from Boston, she  _knew_  what she was getting herself into this time—fairytales and magic, princesses and Evil Queens.

"Is everything okay, Ma?" Henry asked from the backseat.

Emma regarded her teenaged son with the aid of the rearview mirror. "Yeah, kid."

She glanced in Walsh's direction. The man had been silent for the remainder of the trip from the roadside motel until now, staring out the passenger side window and ignoring Emma's attempts to make light conversation. It was becoming more clear that inviting her boyfriend along had been a mistake, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

Emma shifted her vehicle into drive and followed the red taillights of Regina's car into town.

"It's small," Henry remarked.

Emma grunted in agreement. Storybrooke was no metropolis, especially to a young boy who only had memories of living in Boston and then New York City. She hoped it wouldn't become a problem, but even more so she hoped she and Regina would be able to find a way to return Henry's memories. The truth was uncommonly messy and complicated, but the last thing she wanted to do was deny Henry of his family—his  _entire_ family.

"What now?"

Emma nearly slammed on the breaks; Walsh had spoken to her for the first time that day.

"There's some people I have to see before we get settled." Emma sucked in a deep breath, letting the air inflate her lungs. "This isn't my first time in Storybrooke."

Without looking, she knew two sets of inquisitive eyes were on her.

"When?" Henry asked. "Was it before I was born?"

"I'm gonna drop you guys off at Granny's diner," Emma announced, ignoring her son's question. "You can get something to eat while I'm gone."

"What's with all the secrets, Emma?" Walsh bristled in his seat. "You're being unusually vague about this place. You can't keep us in the dark forever."

"I know," Emma agreed. "And I promise I'll explain everything soon."

The Bug squeaked to a jerky stop in front of the Main Street eatery. "Wait here a second, okay? I'll be right back."

Not waiting for a response, Emma hopped out of the idling vehicle and hustled inside of the diner before either Walsh or Henry could follow.

A tiny bell above her head rang when Emma pushed open the door. It was late in the afternoon—well after the lunch rush and too early for the dinner crowd. Granny was nowhere in sight, but the sound of glass shattering jerked Emma's attention towards the back of the restaurant.

Ruby's red-painted mouth was agape. Around her wedge heels were shards of ceramic from a coffee cup she'd dropped upon seeing Emma. "You're back!"

Long, gangly arms were instantly thrown around Emma's neck and shoulders.

"Hey, Ruby." The show of emotion took Emma by surprise. She momentarily stiffened before patting her hand in the center of Ruby's back.

Ruby pulled back and held Emma at arm's length. "How?" she asked, eyes still wide with wonder.

"Hook. And Regina." Emma puffed out a breath. "I hear ya'll got cursed again."

"You heard right," Ruby sighed. She stooped and began to pick up the pieces of the broken coffee cup and Emma crouched down to help. "Talk about annoying. I got used to memory loss when I couldn't control my wolf, but I never lost an entire  _year_." She looked up suddenly. "Wait. Where's Henry?"

"Outside in the car. We just got into town, and I came here because I've got a favor to ask."

Ruby stood and brushed and the front of her short skirt. "Anything."

"Henry doesn't have his memories back. Hook had only enough memory potion for me. Henry's not going to know who any of you are."

"Not even Regina?"

Emma nodded grimly. "Yeah. Not even her."

Ruby clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "If it weren't for bad luck, that poor woman would have no luck at all."

"I have to go see my parents, but I need to prepare them about Henry. I don't need Snow freaking out about seeing her grandson again when he has no idea who she is." Emma bit her lower lip. She hated asking for help, even now. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Henry until I get back?"

Ruby smiled brightly, her white teeth flashing. "I'll do better than that. I'll even feed him. And who knows—maybe eating his favorite burger will jog his memory."

Emma could feel the corners of her mouth lift in return. "Thanks, Ruby. You're a lifesaver."

The dark-haired woman curtsied. "Anything for the Savior."

* * *

Emma ran her fingers through her hair. They got tangled halfway thanks to the all-in-one shampoo-conditioner that had been in their motel bathroom. Her thick mane required a little more than the complimentary toiletries could offer.

She raised her right hand and knocked on the door. On the other side of the barrier, she could hear the squeak of footsteps on the wooden flooring. A few locks unfastened before the door was thrown open.

"Emma!" David grabbed his daughter out of the hallway and pulled her in for a tight embrace. Emma could feel her ribs constrict beneath the intensity of the hug.

"Hey, Dad," she wheezed. "How's it going?"

"David?" Emma hear her mother's disembodied voice float through the air. "Who is it?"

A moment later, Snow appeared around the corner. Her eyes locked with the watery emerald of her daughter's irises.

Snow pressed her fist to her mouth and tears sprung to her eyes. "You're really here. Regina called and said you were back in town, but I wouldn't let myself believe it until I saw you for myself."

Emma's eyes took in the sight of her mother's round face—the short pixie haircut she'd maintained even after they'd regained their memories the first time, the visible glow of her apple cheeks on pale white skin, and the distended stomach beneath her cable-knit sweater.

Emma's mouth dropped open. "Y-You're pregnant."

Snow looked down at her stomach and placed her palm flat against the protruding bump. "You noticed that, huh?" she quietly chuckled.

"It's how we knew this new curse had made us forget the past year," David's voice reached Emma's ears while she continued to stare, unblinking, at her mother and her stomach. "Besides a few new citizens, it's about the only thing different about Storybrooke."

It was only then that Emma noticed the white wooden crib near the kitchen island and the carefully folded onesies stacked on the dining room table.  _This was really happening._

Emma swallowed down the rising lump in her throat. "I have to go."

Snow's features crumpled. "But you just got here."

"Henry's waiting for me at Granny's," Emma explained.

"Henry." Snow's frown grew in size.

Emma gestured around the room. "He doesn't remember any of this."

Snow nodded. "I know. Regina told us. Is there anything we can do to help?"

Emma licked at her dry lips. "I, uh, we can catch up later, I guess."

Snow's chin trembled slightly, but she kept herself composed. "Okay."

* * *

Regina stared at the crackling fire in the stone fireplace in her den. The hardwood popped and sang as the blaze built momentum. She took a small, measured sip of cider from her well glass and sighed. Except for the noises emitted from the fireplace, the rest of the mansion was silent. There were no sneakers to trip over in the front foyer, no errant comic books on the dining room table, no toothpaste residue in the sink of the second bedroom upstairs. As much as the sound of Henry's heavy footsteps used to put her on edge after a long day, she'd give up all the magic in the realms to have him remember her again.

She took a second, larger drink of cider and wiped at the drops that clung to her upper lip. She'd even offered to let Ursula stay with her until she got back on her feet—or tentacles—but the sea witch had politely declined the offer. She had no idea where Ursula was planning on staying, but a quick consultation to any of her mirrors would show her the location of the semi-reformed villain.

The knock at the front door was unexpected. Most visitors—as rare as they were—used the doorbell. She was in no mood to entertain and thought about letting the unannounced visitor stand all night on her front stoop. She closed her eyes and sighed again.

A second knock, followed by a familiar voice calling her name caused her eyes to flutter open: "Regina!"

It was Emma.

Regina rose from the couch, elegantly unfolding her long legs, and traveled the short distance to the front door. She stopped in front of an oval mirror on the wall and visually took inventory of herself. She swept her fingers through her hair. She looked fine. Presentable for the late hour—certainly presentable enough for Emma Swan, she decided.

She opened the door, just as Emma had raised her closed fist to knock for a third time.

"That's a new look for you," Emma remarked.

Regina looked down at her silk pajamas with their matching top and bottom. It was more conservative than what she'd been wearing lately, but the mansion could be cold and drafty this time of year. "Do you have a problem with the way I'm dressed in my own home, Miss Swan?"

"No, it's just more than I'm used to seeing you in."

Region's hand went to the collar of her beige pajama top. "I do hope there's a reason for this visit beyond you wanting to see me in my pajamas again."

The teasing smirk fell away from Emma's features as she recalled what had brought her to Regina's house at this hour. "Why didn't you tell me about my mom?"

"Tell you what?"

"That she's pregnant."

Regina sighed. "Come in, Miss Swan."

Without waiting to see if Emma would accept her invitation, Regina turned away from the door and began walking in the direction of the den.

"I would offer you a drink," she tossed over her shoulder as she retreated farther into the house, "but I'm pretty sure you've already drank this town dry."

She heard Emma's dismissive snort, followed by the sound of the front door whisking shut. "Whatever."

"I could smell the alcohol the moment I opened the door, dear."

"Oh."

Regina returned to the den and retrieved her abandoned glass of cider. There were other places to sit in the formal room, so she was slightly taken aback when Emma decided to sit next to her on the same couch.

"Why didn't you tell me about my mom?" Emma repeated her question from before.

"You know that's not my place. "

"I wish I could tell you the pregnancy was a mistake or that she at a bad mushroom in the Enchanted Forest, Emma, but like everyone else, I have no idea what Snow's motivations were.  _No one_  knows what happened when we were back there."

"Have you asked her about it?"

"No." Emma hung her head. "I saw her belly and I ran."

Regina made a noise. "Very mature."

"I got blindsided! I thought I was going to have this awesome reunion with my parents, but instead I find out that they've moved on."

Regina frowned. "That's not fair, Emma, and you know it."

"I get it. They want a baby. They never really got to be parents. I showed up fully formed."

"Which is my fault," Regina gently pointed out. "Not theirs."

"I can't be mad at you."

Regina arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"You … you're not  _her._ " Emma stared straight ahead."I can compartmentalize the two of you–the Evil Queen and Regina. The Evil Queen did all of those things. Not you."

Regina's gaze dropped to her hands, hoping Emma wouldn't notice how they shook around her well glass.

"It's how Henry can love you despite what his storybook says."

"Except he has no idea who I am," Regina muttered softly.

Emma's hand fell to Regina's knee. "We'll figure it out. It's what we do, right?"

Regina stared at Emma's hand. It was a friendly gesture—innocuous. But she couldn't deny how the simple, friendly touch affected her. The heat radiating from Emma's palm traveled up Regina's right thigh and straight to her core.

Regina wiggled out from beneath the hand as unobtrusively as possible. "So how would you like to proceed?" she asked.

"Proceed?" Emma echoed.

"Finding out who's behind this new curse," Regina clarified. "Your parents and I have hit every dead end imaginable since we've been back."

"Right. Well, I suppose we should powwow with my parents. And anyone else we trust. There's got to be something—some clue that you guys missed."

"Sure you'll be able to be in the same room as your mother?" Regina asked without malice or taunting.

Emma sucked in a breath. "I suppose I'm going to have to. Are they sure it's only  _one_ baby in there? She's huge!"

Regina chuckled. "Only time will tell. Which, from the looks of how big her stomach's gotten, shouldn't be very long at all."

"Do they know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Regina shook her head. "Your parents are very traditional. Even with all of the technology available in Storybrooke, they want to stick to the old ways. They probably won't even have Dr. Whale deliver the baby."

"Rumor has it, one of the Seven Dwarves delivered you," Regina chuckled.

"As long as it wasn't Dopey," Emma returned.

Regina bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. This was too easy, too fun. She shouldn't be having such a good time bantering with Emma Swan. But even when they'd despised each other, Regina had looked forward to their brief interactions. She'd programmed everyone in this town to respect or at least fear her. Emma had been the first person in decades to challenge her. As much as the other woman had a habit of annoying her, she'd also sparked something within Regina that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Emma stood up and stretched her legs. "I suppose I should get going. Henry's waiting."

"And your paramour," Regina unnecessarily added. "Where are you staying, by the way? I'm assuming not your parents' loft like the original plan."

"The loft seemed a little crowded."

"No more so than the three of you staying in a room at Granny's," Regina countered.

"Yeah, uh, Walsh is bunking with Hook."

Regina raised a manicured eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Emma raked her fingers through her hair, only to have her fingers get tangled in the unruly curls once again. "Yeah, the rooms at Granny's aren't exactly spacious, so, uh, Henry's with me and Walsh is staying across the hallway with Hook."

Regina pursed her lips. "And here I am in a mansion all by myself."

"We'll figure out the living situation. It's just temporary," Emma reasoned.

Regina silently nodded. She wasn't going to ask what Emma meant by temporary, afraid that the other woman had already decided that Storybrooke was her past, not her and Henry's future.

She saw Emma to the front door. "Have a good night, Miss Swan. Try to take it easy on your liver, okay?"

"Okay," Emma agreed. "Powwow tomorrow morning at the police station?"

Regina lifted her half-finished drink and inclined her head. "Tomorrow morning it is, Sheriff."

Emma flashed a quick smile. "Sweet dreams, Madam Mayor."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

“So here’s the situation.” Emma cupped the ceramic mug in her hands. The warmth from the hot chocolate provided her comfort—which was a good thing because she was about to tell the biggest yarn in her life.

After returning from Regina’s house, the previous night had progressed rather unremarkably. Henry had been asleep when Emma had returned to their room, and there had been no late-night knocking on her door from Walsh who was staying across the hallway with Hook. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or upset about that, though.

She now sat in a padded booth at Granny’s diner during the breakfast rush. Seated across the table from her were Walsh and Henry.

“I told you I’d been in Storybrooke before," Emma began, "but what I haven’t told you is that I used to live here.”

She paused, waiting for some reaction from either of the two people seated across from her, but noting that having lived in Storybrooke wasn’t that big of a bombshell, she continued.

“I became a bailsbonds person because I’d been trying to my parents. And I moved around a lot because of that, following up on new leads. One of those leads brought me here. I took a job with the local police department, did some good, and after a while I followed my next lead which took me someplace else."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. There were so many lies and half-truths, she was surprised her nose hadn't started to grow.

“Henry, you lived here, too.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “I did?”

“Yeah. You just don’t remember it. You-you were pretty young," Emma stumbled on another half-truth. "But I wanted you to know because people might come up to you and start talking to you because they remember you … from before.”

"Did you know Regina from before?" Walsh asked.

Emma took a sip of her hit chocolate to give herself some time before having to answer the question. "A little, yes. I was police and she was mayor, so we bumped into each other from time to time. But running into her in New York was purely coincidental."

"And she offered you your old job back," Walsh pressed.

"Yeah."

"Do I get a say in this?" Henry asked.

"Of course!" Emma insisted. "We're a team, kid. You and me."

Henry turned to Walsh. "Are you going to move to Storybrooke, too?"

"Woah," Emma quickly jumped in. "Let's not put the cart before the horse just yet. I haven't said yes to the job, and Walsh and I still have to talk about all of this."

"When?" Walsh questioned, leaning forward.

"I'm working on it."

"Tonight," he insisted.

Emma frowned. She couldn't come up with an excuse as to why that couldn't happen. She'd used up all her lies for the day. "Yeah, I-I guess I could probably do that."

Walsh balled up his paper napkin and tossed it on his plate. He'd barely touched his breakfast. "Well if that's all, I need to call my store and check in on things."

"O-oh. Okay." Emma had been so wrapped up in all things Storybrooke, she'd forgotten that Walsh had responsibilities outside of herself and Henry. It made her feel even guiltier about dragging him along.

Walsh stood from the booth and stared down at mother and son. "I'll see you tonight though. And we'll talk?"

Emma nodded grimly. "Yeah, tonight."

Emma watched the lanky man as he stiffly exited the diner. The overhead bell on the front door jangled with his departure. There had been no goodbye kisses, no words of endearment. It seemed that she'd successfully ruined another relationship. 

Across the table, Henry cut up his Belgian waffle into evenly sized bites. He seemed to be thinking over Emma's story with more quiet contemplation than usual.

_Did he remember something? Does he know I'm lying?_ Emma wondered to herself.

"How are you doing with all of this?" Emma cautiously asked.

Henry shrugged.

"Because you know you can talk to me, right?"

Henry set down his fork and knife. "Are you sure I can't get a new PlayStation?" he sighed.

A nervous chuckle bubbled up Emma's throat. "We'll see. We'll see."

Her answer seemed to pacify Henry at least for now.

"Listen, I've got a meeting to get to in a little bit. You want me to drop you off at the library on my way to City Hall? I shouldn’t be gone very long, but the library’s gotta be better than you hanging out in the room and watching the wallpaper peel.”

Henry shoved an oversized piece of waffle into his mouth. "Okay," he agreed around his food.

Emma shook her head. She'd have to do something about Henry's rapidly deteriorating table manners before Regina murdered her.

* * *

Emma could hear the raised voices coming from inside the sheriff’s station. When she nudged the office door wider with the rounded toe of her boot, she wasn’t prepared for what she found on the other side of the door.

The sheriff’s office was packed. She had only been expecting her parents and Regina that morning, but there had to be over a dozen Storybrooke residents in the room, and they were all yelling at each other. Emma quickly scanned the confined space. She recognized most everyone, but a few faces weren’t familiar.

Emma caught Regina’s attention. The former mayor was standing off to the side, fiddling with an earring and avoiding conversation with anyone else. Her body language and her wardrobe—a tailored pantsuit—set her apart from everyone else.

Emma, unnoticed by the others, slipped into the room and approached Regina. “What happened in here?” she questioned under her breath.

Regina’s painted lips pursed. “I believe this would be your parents’ doing. Snow’s never been adept at keeping things low-key.”

“Why are they all here?” Emma asked, gesturing to all the people in the room.

“They want to help,” Regina sighed. “It would appear that losing a year of one’s life makes people uncomfortable.”

“I know the feeling,” Emma grumbled to herself.

“What’s in the box?” Regina asked, nodding to the pink box Emma held.

Emma popped the top off the floppy container. “Donuts. I think I’m gonna have to get more from Granny’s though to feed this crowd.”

“ _Don’t you dare, Miss Swan_ ,” Regina darkly warned. “The villagers will get their pitchforks and torches if you don’t start this meeting soon. And I’d be inclined to join them.”

“Fine, fine,” Emma grumbled. She set the box down on the corner of an open desk. She put two fingers in her mouth and blew. The piercing wolf-whistle caught everyone off-guard, including Regina, who jolted to attention.

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Emma announced. “It’s unexpected to see so many faces here, but I’m glad to see you all again.” She flashed a quick glance in her parents’ direction. David grimaced and Snow looked away.

“What are we gonna do, Emma?” someone in the crowd shouted out. At the question, everyone began to talk at the same time again.

Emma waved her arms above her head and the voices eventually quieted. “Listen, I know you’re all anxious to find out what happened and why you’re all back. I am, too. We need a list—a census, if you will—of everyone in Storybrooke. Who’s new since the curse, and who’s not. Was anyone left behind? Maybe that will get us somewhere." 

Emma went to one of the metal filing cabinets in the office and produced a cartographer’s map of the town and surrounding area.  She unrolled it and laid it out flat on her old desk. Those in the immediate area crowded around for a better look.

“We’ll split up the city to save time,” she continued. She privately marveled at how everyone in the room was listening to her. To the people of Storybrooke, she was the Savior, but it was a role she was still getting used to. “Between all of us, we’ll go door- to-door and find out who lives where." 

Emma proceeded to divide the city into reasonable chunks and assigned groups of two to survey each area.

“I can take the forest,” an unknown voice volunteered.

Emma looked up from the map. The suggestion had come from an attractive man with a goatee and piercing blue eyes. “And you would be?” she asked.

“Back in the Enchanted Forest, I was known as Robin of Locksley.” The man gave her a lopsided grin. “You might know me better as Robin Hood though.”

“No offense, but I’d like to trust this job to people I actually know.”

Robin inclined his head. “Fair enough. But I know the woods and the people therein. They’re not likely to talk to someone they don’t know. I can help. Perhaps you could pair me with one of the longer standing residents of this fine city?” he proposed. “Perhaps Mayor Mills? I noticed she hasn’t been assigned an area yet.”

Emma flicked her eyes in the direction of the aforementioned woman. Regina’s eyes had widened in surprise at the mentioning of her name.

“Easy, Mate,” Hook interjected before Emma could formulate a response. “You’re just getting your legs in Storybrooke. Leave the heavy lifting to those who’ve actually lived here.”

“I don’t need you fighting my battles for me,” Emma snapped in Hook’s direction.

Hook held up his good hand. “Sorry, love, just trying to help.”

“If you want to help,” Emma said tensely, “you can start by figuring out who sent you that memory potion.”

Hook slightly bowed at the waist. “Whatever you say, Swan.”

Emma turned her attention back to Robin Hood. “You can help with the survey of the forest," she reluctantly agreed. She actually hadn't considered that anyone actually lived in the woods before he had mentioned it. "Grumpy, you can help him.”

“Aw, man,” the surly dwarf complained.

“Everyone, you have your jobs,” Emma declared, raising her voice to be heard. “When you’ve finished your part of the city, bring your information back to the sheriff’s office and we can compile a master list and go from there.”

A subdued din of chatter filled the room once Emma dismissed the meeting. The collective voices were starting to give Emma a headache, but at least everyone had something to keep them busy as they now obediently filed out of the sheriff’s office.

“Miss Swan." Regina's heels sounded against the tiled flooring. "You didn’t give me a job.”

“I thought you’d be thanking me; do you really want to tromp around the forest with that Robin Hood guy?”

Regina arched an inspecting eyebrow as her eyes followed the broad-shouldered man out the door of the sheriff’s office. “Oh, I don't know. He doesn’t seem so bad.”

“He smells like pine trees,” Emma snorted.

“Well your olfactory prejudice aside, the census was a good idea—even if I’m loath to admit it,” Regina said with a small smile. “Well done, Sheriff.”

“Hopefully it’ll keep everyone busy for a while. It was the best I could come up with on the spot,” Emma dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I think you’re our best chance to figure out what happened, though.”

Regina’s face revealed her surprise. “Me?”

Emma retrieved a small vial from an inner pocket of her red leather jacket and dropped it into Regina’s hand. “It had Hook’s memory potion in it,” she explained. “Maybe it will help. I want you working on a memory potion.” She dropped her voice. “For Henry, and for all of you.”

Regina’s fingers closed around the glass container. “Thank you,” she stated quietly.

“Listen, I, uh, I’ve got another favor to ask.”

“What is it, dear?”

“I was wondering if maybe you could watch Henry tonight," Emma grimaced. "I owe Walsh some one-on-one time, and I’d prefer not worrying about Henry the entire time. I know it’s probably unfair of me to ask and putting you in a difficult position—”

Regina held up a gloved hand and stopped Emma’s nervous ramble. “Of course I’ll watch Henry.”

It _did_ put her in a difficult position, but she wasn’t going to pass up time with her son—even if he had no idea who she really was.

Emma released a deep breath. “Thanks. I didn’t know if I should ask you or my parents, but I thought I should probably give you first dibs.”

“An interesting way to put it,” Regina smirked. “But thank you for thinking of me.”

Emma bobbed her head. “Well, I should probably get going.” She began to shuffle towards the front door. “I’ve got some sheriff-ing to do, and you’ve got a memory potion to work on.”

“Are you in love with him?” Regina’s clear voice rang out.

The question caused Emma to pause in her exit. “With who?”

“With Walsh, of course.”

Emma’s features scrunched together. “I … that’s not a conversation I can have with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Love is totally different with you people,” Emma explained, exasperation creeping into her tone.

“ _You people_?” Regina echoed.

“All of you fairytale characters. True Love. Destiny." Emma waved her hands. "It doesn't work like that in the real world.”

“I’m perfectly real,” Regina huffed.

“You know what I mean.”

“Need I remind you, dear, that you’re one of those fairytale characters, too?”

“I’m not—“

“You _are_ , Emma,” Regina interrupted. “You were born in the Enchanted Forest—the product of True Love. And that means you have a Soulmate, a True Love, a person you’re Destined to be with. So I’ll ask you again,” she said with practiced patience, “are you in love with Walsh?”

“I really have to go. Henry’s gonna run out of reading material.” Emma continued her escape in the direction of the exit. “I’ll drop him off later tonight,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“Coward.”

At the word, Emma spun on her heel. “What did you say??” she demanded.

Regina’s caramel-colored eyes flashed, and she folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t stutter, dear.”

+++

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: in case you hadn't noticed, I'm a fan of two things. 1) the slow burn 2) cliffhangers. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Emma's boots stomped on the black asphalt as she stormed down Main Street. The people of Storybrooke were pacified for the moment; everyone who'd been at the meeting had a task, which meant they'd leave her alone for at least a few days.

Emma continued to walk with no real destination, but she hoped that a long walk would shake the cobwebs from her brain and she could start to focus on finding the person responsible for this new curse. The jury was still out on if she wanted to thank or punch them. She and Henry had been happy in New York, albeit with altered memories. Now that she was back in Storybrooke, she had her family and friends back, but at what cost? Henry didn't know these people, and all the lies and cold shoulder-ing she'd been guilty of lately had probably ruined her relationship with Walsh.

She was exhausted from bouncing from one conversation to the next, avoiding the people with whom she should have been closest, but too much time with Henry had her telling one half-truth after another, and now being around Walsh was starting to make her feel guilty about the trip back to Storybrooke.

She wanted her parents back. She wanted to be able to share all of her worries with Snow especially—but her mother's ever growing stomach was a painful kick to her own gut and a reminder of the childhood she'd never enjoyed. Regina had been quick to point out that she was to blame for that and not Snow and David, but even after all this time, Emma couldn't help but feel resentment towards her parents for putting her in that magic wardrobe.

_Regina_. The mere thought of the woman had Emma pausing her aggressive parade down Main Street. She didn't quite know what to make of this post-curse version of the former Evil Queen. Their mutual disdain had shifted, changed, and softened after all they'd been through. But her head was too noisy with fake memories and actual time spent in New York to really determine how she felt about Regina now. The only thing she knew for certain was that on the growing list of people she was trying to avoid, Regina surprisingly wasn't on that list.

So caught up in her thoughts, Emma didn't notice the pixie-haired woman walking directly towards her. But she hadn't expect to run into the one person she'd desperately been trying to avoid since her return to Storybrooke—her mother.

"Emma!" Snow exclaimed. "I was hoping I'd run into you today."

"You were?"

Snow nodded vigorously. "I had wanted to stick around after the meeting this morning so we could talk, but David and I were going to be late for our meeting with Zelena."

"Zelena?" Emma echoed. "Who's that?"

"She's—." The pleased look on Snow's face dropped, and she cut her answer short. "She's a midwife."

"Oh. That's cool," Emma replied. The emotion failed to reach her words.

"We, uh, David—your father and I—we decided we wanted to forgo the hospital if at all possible," Snow tried to explain. "And no one's seen Whale since we returned, so we didn't want to be unprepared."

"Yeah, I, uh, I guess the census thing is a good idea then," Emma remarked. "Find out where everyone ended up this second time around."

"Oh, I completely agree. And how smart of you to have suggested it, too," Snow stated brightly. "David and I are so very proud of you, Emma. I hope you know that. You've become quite the leader around here. You can see it in the way people defer to your judgment. Not even Regina argued with you today."

Emma ducked her head, uncomfortable with the compliment, even if it had come from her mom—especially because it had come from her.

"Goodness!" Snow's hand fell to her stomach.

Emma looked up, startled. "What's wrong?"

"The baby. It kicked." She grabbed Emma's hand and pressed it against the front of her swollen abdomen. "It must know you're here. That's your big sister, sweetheart."

Emma reflexively wanted to jerk her hand away from Snow's belly, but then she felt it—the tiny kick. She swallowed thickly and stared down at her hand and where it pressed against Snow's fuzzy sweater. Her little brother or sister was inside there, anxious to come out. It made her think about the first time she'd felt Henry moving around. She'd been so frightened and so confused at the time, but with that tiny shift and faint kick, everything had felt like it was going to be all right.

Emma pulled her hand away and shook her head hard. She'd nearly forgotten she was supposed to be angry with her parents for moving on and creating her replacement. "I've gotta go."

The brightness in Snow's eyes dimmed. "Again? So soon?"

"Yeah, I've got to pick up Henry at the library and then it's time for some serious detective work."

Snow nodded and absently rubbed her belly. "How about dinner at our place tomorrow night? I still haven't seen my grandson."

"I, uh…"

"You can bring your boyfriend, too," Snow practically pled.

"How do you know about Walsh?"

"I pried it out of Regina," her mother revealed. "She didn't seem happy to be telling me about him, so don't be mad at her."

Emma rocked back and forth in her boots. "I really have to go, Mom. I'm not sure about dinner plans yet, but I'll let you know soon."

* * *

Emma felt the stress of the day melt away when she saw Henry seated at a large wooden table in the public library, pouring over a stack of comic books.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Belle," she greeted the woman behind the circulation desk. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all," Belle dismissed. "Henry's a wonderful boy. And I liked having the company. It seems there's always some new disaster in this town. No one ever has any time to read a good book."

Emma chuckled. "As soon as we figure out this new curse, I promise I'll get a library card."

Belle's eyes twinkled with delight. "I'm going to hold you to that promise, Sheriff Swan."

Emma sucked in a sharp breath. "How are you doing … with everything?" She felt bad for not seeing Belle sooner. It had been Rumplestilskin's sacrifice that had defeated Pan and brought Henry back.

Belle's pretty smile tightened. "Do I still wake up in the mornings and expect to see Rumple there? Yes. But I'm getting on as best as I know how."

Emma gently squeezed the other woman's elbow. "You let me know if there's anything I can do to help. After all, we're family."

Belle blinked rapidly and her smile grew in size and warmth. "Family," she echoed. "Yes. I suppose you're right about that."

Emma returned the warm smile before addressing her son, who continued to read. "Henry," she called out to garner his attention. "Are you ready to go?"

Henry's nose remained buried in the colorful, glossy book for a moment longer before he looked up. "Oh, hey, Mom. Yeah. But can I finish up this comic first?"

"Kid, we've really got to go," Emma urged.

"You can take the book with you, Henry," Belle offered. "Just bring it back when you've finished."

"I don't need a library card or anything?" he asked.

"I think we can bypass standard procedure just this once," she winked.

"Cool. Thanks, Ms. French."

"French?" Emma echoed. "How did I never know your last name?"

"It's the name Regina gave me under the first curse," Belle shrugged. "Where we come from, last names weren't really a thing like in this world."

"Oh, cool," Henry exclaimed, still seated across the room at his table. "Check out this old book."

On the table, beside the stack of comic books Henry had been reading sat an oversized, hardcover tome. Emma practically gasped when she recognized the book—it was Henry's old fairytale book. She'd completely forgotten about it until she saw it back in her son's hands. Henry immediately began to flip through the ancient book's heavy pages.

"Am I going crazy, or did that book just magically appear on the table?" Emma asked for only Belle's ears. "

"If you're going crazy, so am I," Belle whispered back. "We looked for Henry's book as soon as we got back, hoping it might give us a clue as to what had happened. When we couldn't find it at Regina's or Snow's we thought you must have taken it with you out of Storybrooke."

Emma shook her head. "We took the clothes on our back—that's about it."

"Henry," Belle said, raising her voice so the boy could hear her. "How about you take that book along with your comic books?"

"Awesome."

"Something tells me that book didn't want to be found until just now," Belle said in a hushed tone. "And Henry's the person who was supposed to find it."

* * *

Henry and Emma piled into the beat-up yellow Bug.

"Have a good afternoon?" Emma asked her son as she started up the car.

"Uh huh. The library had a lot of comics I hadn't read yet. And Ms. French is pretty cool. Did you know her from before?"

"Uh huh. Belle's an old friend."  _And nearly your step-grandmother_ , she added to herself. "Speaking of old friends," Emma continued, "I hate to keep passing you off, but how you would feel about spending a few hours with Regina tonight? Walsh is getting antsy about the two of us having that chat."

"I saw Walsh today," Henry said. "I mean, after we all had breakfast together. I was at the library, and I saw him out the window. I don't think he saw me though."

"Oh yeah?"

Henry pulled the old storybook from his backpack and began flipping through its pages. "He was talking to some lady," he continued. "They both looked pretty angry."

Emma frowned, but kept her eyes on the road in front of her as she drove. "What did she look like?"

"Pretty. Kind of red-ish hair. Green eyes."

Emma flipped through her mental Rolodex for someone matching that description, but came up empty. Belle was practically only person she knew in Storybrooke with faintly red hair. Ruby sometimes wore her red hood, but Henry had met her before. Aurora perhaps? Emma tried to picture the pretty princess. But didn't she have blue eyes?

Emma and Henry drove the rest of the way to Regina's house in silence—Emma in quiet contemplation of whom Walsh might have been talking to, and Henry with his head buried in his book. He barely looked up to say goodbye when Emma parked the car in front of Regina's house and Henry exited the car.

Emma stared after Henry and his retreating back. With his head tilted down, distracted with reading, his feet seemed to naturally carry him down the pathway that led up to Regina's front steps. It looked as if he'd walked that path every day of his life.

_Was the book working?_   _Was it jogging his memory?_  Emma wondered.  _Or was it simply Henry's muscle memory taking over?_ She'd seen her son do plenty of things with his attention consumed by a video game.

Emma waited in the parked vehicle until she saw the front door open and Regina step out onto the front stoop. Regina curtly waved in the direction of Emma and the yellow Bug. From a distance, Emma waved back before finally driving off, completely missing out on the deep frown etched on Regina's beautiful face.

 

* * *

Emma climbed the wooden staircase at the back of Granny's diner that led to the apartments above the popular dining spot. She reached the final step and turned around the corner, only to run into another body, rushing in the opposite direction.

"Whoops." Emma stumbled a few steps backwards. "Excuse me."

"No need to be pushy, Swan. If you wanted your body on mine, all you had to do was ask."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Hello, Killian. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Being a good boy and following up on a lead like you told me to." He flashed her a charming smile. "But I'd gladly cut my evening short if you making yourself available."

"Actually, I already have plans for tonight."

Hook's smile turned into a grimace. "Right. With the scarecrow. No wonder he looked so giddy."

"Walsh is hardly a scarecrow," Emma defended.

"You're right. The way he snores, he's more like a bear … or a lion. I've slept on a ship full of pirates, and I've never heard anything like it. It's remarkable, really."

"It's not that bad."

Hook's eyebrows danced on his forehead. "Oh? So you  _have_ slept in the same room as him before."

Emma crossed her arms across her chest. "It's the 21st century," she grunted. "Grown ups can do that."

Hook bent at the waist and bowed with dramatic flare. "Well, as much as I enjoy our little chats, Swan, I must be off. Have a lovely evening." He straightened and pulled at the lapels of his leather jacket. "If you grow bored of your scarecrow, you can find me and a fifth of alcohol near the docks later."

Emma let herself into Walsh and Hook's shared room, finding the door unlocked. The pungent scent of men's cologne assaulted her nostrils the moment she walked in. She could hear the shower on in the adjoining bathroom.

"Walsh?" she called out.

"Emma?' his voice returned. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. Hook let me in. I just dropped by to tell you I'm ready for dinner whenever you are."

"Ok. I'll just be a few more minutes," his disembodied voice called back.

"What did you do all day?" Emma asked conversationally. She leaned against the bathroom door, but didn't go in.

"Not too much. I called the store to check in and make sure everything's running smoothly. We got an extra shipment of corner lamps that I must have accidentally over-ordered."

"Anything else?" she pressed.

"Nope. Not really. Found a pond and fed some ducks."

"Sounds nice." Emma frowned. She wondered why he hadn't mentioned anything about Henry's mysterious redhead.

"It actually was. I'm starting to like this place," Walsh continued to talk from the shower. "It's quaint, and the people are all so friendly. Nothing at all like New York."

Emma stared at the unzipped duffle bag in the center of Walsh's unmade bed. With one eye still on the bathroom door, she reached a cautious hand inside and rummaged around. She found only clothes and shoes inside until the top of her hand knocked against a wooden box. Her fingers curled around the small container and she pulled it free from the bag.

Emma inspected the outside of the compact wooden box that was nearly cubical in shape. She rolled it over in her hands a few time, looking for markings or any sign of what it was. She ran the edge of her fingernail along a thin seam that she was eventually able to pry open. The box's lid flipped back on a series of hidden hinges.

"Oh, shit," Emma murmured as she discovered the box's contents.

It was a ring.

The shower turned off in the bathroom.

* * *

Emma barely had the yellow Bug parked and her keys out of the ignition before she was leaping out of the driver side door and running down the paverblock walkway that led to Regina's front door.

"Why does nobody lock their front doors?" she marveled to herself as she let herself in.

The front of Regina's mansion was empty, and Emma followed the light sound of conversation to the back of the house where she found Regina and Henry sitting on the carpeted floor, playing a board game. It looked like  _Sorry_ , but Emma hadn't seen the game in years.

Emma's entrance hadn't gone unnoticed. Regina looked sharply away from the game board. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

The response from the former mayor took Emma aback. If she would have burst into Regina's home before, there would have been anger and annoyance from the raven-haired woman. But instead of incredulity clouding Regina's caramel-colored eyes, Emma saw only concern.

"N-nothing," Emma stammered.

Regina regarded her now with confusion.

"Can we talk?" Emma requested.

Regina looked once to Henry and then back to his frazzled mother. "Of course." She rose from the floor in one fluid, seamless motion. "We can talk in the den," she instructed.

Emma followed Regina toward the front of the house and to the formal study where they'd had far too many unpleasant confrontations early on in their acquaintanceship.

"That was the fastest date I've ever heard of," Regina remarked as she walked into the black and white décor'ed room. "Walsh is no Romeo, I take it?"

Emma stalked directly to the small buffet where she knew Regina stored her cider and other decanters. "Do you want something to drink?' she asked, ignoring Regina's jibe.

Not waiting for an answer, Emma filled a tumbler with the potent cider and took a long, thirsty drink. She poured more of the amber liquid into her glass and took a smaller, more measured drink.

"Emma." The blonde woman was clearly rattled, but Regina had no idea why. "Slow down. Tell me what's happened."

"I found a ring in Walsh's things. It looks like an engagement ring. It's this big monstrosity of an emerald with diamonds all around it."

Regina swallowed and set her jaw. "Congratulations."

"Congratulations?!" Emma's arms flailed about. "I can't marry him! I can't invite him into this madness. It wouldn't be fair to him."

"What about what's fair to you, Emma?" Regina pointed out. "You can't always play the martyr. What about your own happiness?"

"I'm happy," Emma defended.

"Not any more you aren't. But you were happy in New York. I saw it."

"I was  _ignorant_ ," Emma corrected, "not happy."

"I don't see a difference."

"How could I be happy if I didn't know the truth about my family? Sure, life is a whole lot messier with you all in it, but you guys are  _my_  mess."

Regina couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "How flattering."

"You know what I mean," Emma huffed. She sighed heavily. "I've managed to ruin another night. And now I'm gonna have to explain to Walsh why I bolted—yet another lie."

"You could always tell him the truth," Regina proposed. "Tell him you found the ring and had a panic attack."

"I didn't have—" Emma cut herself short and shook her head. "Okay,  _fine_. Maybe I did. But then I'd also have to explain to him why I was digging around in his things."

"Why  _were_  you?"

"Henry said he saw Walsh today, talking to a redheaded woman with green eyes. Do you know anyone who fits that description?"

Regina looked thoughtful before shaking her head. "No, I don't. It must be someone new from the Enchanted Forest." A sardonic chuckle bubbled up her throat. "Think your Walsh has found a mistress so soon?"

Emma made a face. "Funny."

"At least you don't have to worry about him taking her back to his place," Regina couldn't help but add. "How are he and Hook getting along?"

"From the sounds of it, they're just barely co-existing. Walsh snores."

"Are you really planning on staying at Granny's the entire time you're here?"

Emma looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "I had originally thought Henry and I would stay with my parents, but it's a little crowded there."

"Because of the baby." It wasn't a question. Regina had witnessed firsthand how Snow's pregnancy had hurt Emma's feelings. "Have you spoken to them about this?"

"No. There hasn't been time."

"Make time, Miss Swan."

"It's comforting to know that some things haven't changed," Emma snorted defensively. "New curse and you're still as bossy as ever."

"As you're still a coward, Emma Swan. Talk to your mother about this pregnancy. It's what you both need."

"Why do you suddenly care so much about if my mom and I ever talk again? Wouldn't that make your revenge complete?"

The fire in Regina's eyes faded to be replaced with uncertainty. "Revenge?" she echoed. "Do you honestly believe I'm still hung up on that?"

"I don't know. You still don't have your happy ending, and I'm sure you've somehow found a way to blame me or my mom for that," Emma snapped.

"You are unbelievable," Regina steamed, suddenly not caring that Henry could probably hear them in the next room. "Where's this attitude coming from?" she demanded.

"I'm embarrassed, okay?"

"Embarrassed?" Regina repeated. "Whatever for? You're not the one who got blackout drunk."

"And took off their clothes," Emma couldn't help adding.

Regina set her painted mouth in a straight line. "Exactly. So forgive me if I don't see anything you have to be embarrassed about."

"When I didn't know who you were, I actually liked you—like, I thought we could be pretty good friends. And I can count on one hand the people I consider friends."

"I-I liked you, too, Emma." Regina sucked in a sharp breath. "And I'm sure it hasn't evaded your notice that I don't exactly win popularity contests in Storybrooke."

"Do you think we could call a truce?" Emma proposed. "Our situation is fucked, but can we forget for a moment that I'm the Sheriff and you're the Mayor?"

"And that you're the Savior and I'm the Evil Queen?" Regina hesitatingly added.

"Yeah. We can be just Regina and Emma. Friends."

Regina licked her lips. "Friends," she murmured. "Sure."

"My mom wants us over for dinner tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Henry, me, and Walsh."

"Right. Of course." Regina hoped her face hadn't reddened. She instantly felt foolish for believing she would be part of that "us."

Emma raked her fingers through her hair. "I don't know if I'm ready for that—introduce Walsh to my parents, but not be able to tell him who they really are."

"Why don't you all come over here?" Regina found herself asking. "I'll talk to Snow and we'll hammer out the details. I'll invite some other people so it's not just an awkward family dinner."

"Really?" Emma lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "You'd do that?"

"Of course. I'd get to see Henry again."

Emma's cheeks hollowed as she considered Regina's offer. It did sound less painful than a sit-down dinner with her parents.

"Okay," she finally conceded. "Should I bring something?"

"Just Henry and Walsh." She hoped her face hadn't revealed her disgust over having to say the latter's name.

"I have to thank you, Regina," Emma hesitatingly started. "I didn't expect being back in Storybrooke would be so hard. You're about the only person I've been able to really talk to about all this. So, uh, thanks."

"Y-you're welcome, Emma," Regina stammered. "I'm glad to be of use."

Emma collected Henry from the next room, who seemed oblivious to the heated conversation that had occurred only a few yards away. They said their good nights, and Regina stood on the front stoop as Emma ushered Henry down the walkway.

As Regina watched Emma and her son climb into the yellow Bug parked outside, she pulled out her cell phone and rummaged through her recent contact list. They hadn't spoken much since their arrival in Storybrooke, but it was necessary to call on her tenuous ally if her plan was going to work.

Regina heard the other line click. "Sea witch." She didn't wait for Ursula to even say hello. "It's time we reveal that flying monkey for who he really is."

 

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it's been far too long since I last updated. I promise I haven't forgotten about this story, I had a deadline to meet for my most recent novel, so I had to press the pause button on fanfiction momentarily. But I finished the new book which means I can get back to Emma and Regina. Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 15

Emma bounded up the stairs of City Hall with a white paper bag clutched tightly in one hand. She reached for the door handle to Regina's mayoral office, but stopped mid-air when she heard a strange, musical sound coming from the other side of the door. She leaned her head closer to the closed door. It sounded like...laughter.

Regina was laughing.

Emma tried the handle, and, finding it unlocked, she slowly opened the door. The mayor's normally immaculate office space had been converted into a makeshift laboratory. Beakers and vials of all shapes and sizes crowded a desk that was usually stacked high with city contracts and proposals.

Regina looked at home in the black and white decorated office, which she had taken back from Snow not long after their return to Storybrooke. It had been an noble gesture on Regina's part to let Snow and Charming resume leadership of the tiny sea-side town after the first curse had been broken, but Snow and her husband had been rulers of a kingdom, and were ill-suited for running a town in this realm.

Regina wore one of her signature pantsuits, this one charcoal grey. She looked fierce from the black stilettos that adorned her feet up to the smoky eye shadow that framed her large, expressive eyes. She was leaning against her desk with her arms folded across her chest. The posture resulted in accentuating her already hard-to-ignore breasts that tested the durability of the third button of her Oxford shirt.

It was clear that the man with whom Regina was conversing was having a difficult time keeping his eyes above her shoulders—not that Emma could blame him. She'd often found her own gaze drifting lower and lower, especially after tuning out Regina during one of her verbal tirades.

Emma cleared her throat, garnering the attention of the two other people in the room. "Hi. I thought you might need lunch." She raised the slightly crumpled paper bag in her hand as evidence.

Regina stood to her full height and tugged at the cuffs of her grey suit jacket. "Emma, you remember Robin from yesterday."

"Uh huh," Emma grunted in response. "Nice to see you again."

Robin quickly bobbed his head in a kind of curtailed bow. "And you as well, Emma." He turned his attentions back to Regina. "I should probably be getting back to my Merry Men. I hope to run into you soon, Mayor Mills."

A small smile had affixed itself to Regina's mouth. "Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Hood."

Emma's eyes followed the man out the office door. She promptly shut it closed again with Robin's departure. "What was that about?"

Regina walked behind her impressive desk. "Robin was dropping off the census information to the sheriff's office. He stopped by to say hello."

"That was certainly thoughtful," Emma drawled.

Regina looked distracted by a thought. "Indeed."

"Did he ask what you're working on?"

"Of course. Wouldn't you be curious if you saw all of this?" Regina gestured to the chemistry set spread out on her desk.

"And you told him?" Emma practically gasped.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an amateur, Miss Swan. But even if I had, I don't think it would be a problem."

"How do you know that? What do we even know about him?" Emma pressed. "Wasn't he a thief or something in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Who robbed from the rich to give to the poor," Regina clarified with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, aren't we above playing the Villains vs. Hero card by now? You know things are never that black and white."

"Fine," Emma huffed, "but I don't have to like him."

"No one ever said anything about that," Regina countered. "Besides, you have enough boyfriends to keep you busy."

"Boyfriends?" Emma echoed.

"Walsh. That annoying one-handed pirate," Regina listed.

"Hook's a friend," Emma dismissed. "And Walsh … that's complicated."

"He's your boyfriend. And perhaps soon to be fiancé."

"Who knows nothing about me."

"Then why don't you tell him?" Regina challenged.

"That I'm the long-lost daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?" Emma shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "And don't give me that look, Regina. I don't see you telling Henry who you are."

"That's completely different," Regina defended. "If you see a future with this Walsh person, something's got to give."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, either you go back to New York and forget about us all, or you tell him the truth. It's as easy as that."

Emma bit her lower lip.

Regina wanted to kiss it.

Regina cleared her throat roughly. "You said something about lunch?"

"Oh. Yeah." Emma shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "I stopped at Granny's. You've been working non-stop. I thought you might need some brain food."

The hard look on Regina's face softened. She couldn't help it; she wasn't accustomed to so many random acts of kindness, especially not from the Savior. She wanted to thank Emma for the gesture, but that wasn't her style.

"If that's some trans-fat, grease-laden product you know what my answer is."

Emma pulled a clear plastic container from the bag and set it on the desk. "Cobb salad, dressing on the side. Granny said it's one of your go-to meals."

Regina pursed her lips. "I suppose it will do."

Emma inspected the complicated apparatus set up on Regina's desk. "Any progress?"

"I'm afraid not. It's complicated magic and unfortunately not something easily replicated in this realm. I'll keep at it though."

Emma continued to linger in Regina's office. Her presence was an unwarranted distraction.

"If there's nothing else, dear, I have work to do."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll see you later."

"Oh, Miss Swan..."

Emma stopped on her way out the door. "Yeah?"

"Your parents informed me they plan to arrive at my house tonight around seven. So don't even think about being late," she warned. "Heads will roll if I'm stuck making conversation with two anxious parents-to-be."

Emma nodded grimly before taking her leave.

"A little more to the left," Regina instructed. "No, not your left, Pirate," she sharply corrected. "Mine."

Regina and Ursula stood side-by-side in the front foyer of the mayor's mansion. "Does it really matter if it's hung straight?" Ursula pointed out.

Regina walked up to the hanging mirror and tapped at its edge with one finger, realigning it ever so slightly until she was satisfied. "I want it to look like it's been here the entire time. If something goes wrong tonight, that monkey will know we're on to him and we'll have lost the element of surprise."

Hook stared at his reflection and ran his one good hand over his stumbled chin. "So how's it work?"

Regina waved her hand across the mirror's reflective surface. The air around her hand wobbled and shimmered. "I've enchanted it. If there's a magical glamour hiding someone's true self, this mirror will be able to see it. All we need to do is get Walsh and Emma to stand in front of it, and he'll be revealed."

Hook continued to peer at his reflection. "How do we know if this thing is even on?"

"Me." Ursula took a step toward the mirror. She shooed the pirate out of the way and took his place in front of the mirror. From her waist up, Ursula appeared in the mirror just as she did in life-long, wavy hair and caramel-colored skin. But from her waist down, she was all iridescent fins.

"That's some trick," Ursula breathed.

"That's bloody amazing," Hook marveled.

"Just be sure you don't stand too close to the mirror when Walsh is around, Sharkbait," Regina warned.

The doorbell sounded, and Regina left Ursula and Hook in order to answer the front door. She forced a smile to her lips. Time to play hostess, she thought drearily to herself. She'd had far too much experience plastering a plastic smile to her lips and entertaining noiseome individuals prior to her husband King Leopold's untimely death. After she had taken over the throne, she had made a vow to herself that she would never have to play the role again, but now here she was, once again put in that position.

When she opened the door, her smile widened upon discovering who was standing at the entrance, but her joy quickly soured. She was delighted to see Henry on her front stoop, but the two visitors who accompanied him made her smile falter.

"Seven o'clock," Emma proclaimed. "Right on time."

Seeing Emma day after day was becoming complicated in ways Regina couldn't have expected. The blonde had shown up on her doorstep many times before, the first to bring Henry back after he'd run away and then again to assault her prized apple tree. But ever since Emma had shown up at her house to quell the angry mob after the first curse had been broken, each subsequent visited had been easier, lighter, flirtier?

Emma had called them friends, but Regina now thought she might want more from the Savior than friendship—something the third in their party would not approve of.

Walsh.

Regina flipped a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Welcome, everyone. So glad you could make it."

Henry ducked inside and stuck out his hand. "Thanks for having us over Ms. M-, I mean Regina."

"You're very welcome, Henry." Regina took his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "And how very polite of you to say so." Her gaze floated over to Emma, who'd just stepped inside herself. "Your mother raised you well."

"I had a little help," Emma mumbled for only Regina's ears. The two shared a smile-a private smile-Regina thought, which was only interrupted by the awkward thrusting of a wine bottle in her face.

"A gift for the hostess," Walsh said in a too-loud voice.

Regina accepted the bottle. "Thank you," she said, tight-lipped. She made a mental note to throw the bottle away later.

Henry, Emma, and Walsh lingered in the front foyer.

One big happy family, Regina sourly thought.

"Are we the first ones here?" Emma asked. She craned her neck to look deeper into Regina's home.

"No. Killian and Ursula arrived shortly before you all," Regina noted. "They're probably in the kitchen."

"Pilfering the rum and shrimp cocktail," Emma couldn't help but add.

Before Regina could settle into her role as hostess, the doorbell rang again.

Snow, David, and a woman Regina didn't recognize stood outside.

"I know it's poor etiquette, but I hope you don't mind us bringing along Zelena," Snow said apologetically. "She's going to be our midwife, and I thought tonight would be a good chance for her to get to know everybody."

"The more the merrier," Regina said in a flat tone.

She welcomed Snow and her prince inside, followed by the tall woman adorned in tweed. She was an unremarkable-looking woman minus the emerald pendant that hung around her neck.

"That's a lovely piece of jewelry…Zelena was it?" Regina remarked as she closed the front door.

Zelena absently touched her fingers to the green stone. "Why, thank you. It's a bit of a family heirloom. And might I compliment you on your home, Your Majesty. It's quite impressive."

Regina flicked her eyes around the foyer, worried that either Henry or Walsh might have heard the title. "We're not holding court here, dear. Please call me Regina," she stated quietly.

Regina regarded the midwife. There was something uncannily familiar about the woman, yet she was sure that they'd never met before, not in the Enchanted Forest or in Storybrooke.

"You're new to town, right?" Emma asked the question before Regina could voice it.

"Indeed. One minute I'm drawing water from a well in my village and the next I'm in this place."

Henry's eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

Regina realized, too late, the slip. She glared in Snow White's direction—she had brought a stranger into her home and she obviously hadn't warned the midwife about Henry and Walsh's knowledge of this place.

"Henry," Emma said loudly, "let's go check out the food situation. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

The doorbell rang again, announcing the arrival of yet another guest. Emma, being closer to the front door than Regina, answered the door in her stead.

She blinked, confused about the inclusion of the newest arrival to the party. "Robin?"

Robin Hood entered the mayoral mansion, eyes immediately seeking the lady of the house. He barely acknowledged Emma before stepping lively towards Regina.

"For you, Madam Mayor," he stated, producing a bouquet of wild flowers. "I wasn't sure what was appropriate, but I didn't want to come empty-handed."

"So you picked weeds?" Emma blurted out.

Regina accepted the proffered gift. "Nonsense. They're lovely." She shot Emma a censoring look. "Thank you, Mr. Hood, this was very thoughtful of you."

Robin smiled, looking pleased. "Please, call me Robin."

"Only if you'll call me Regina."

Emma loudly cleared her


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it's been far too long since I last updated. I promise I haven't forgotten about this story, I had a deadline to meet for my most recent novel, so I had to press the pause button on fanfiction momentarily. But I finished the new book which means I can get back to Emma and Regina. Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 15

Emma bounded up the stairs of City Hall with a white paper bag clutched tightly in one hand. She reached for the door handle to Regina's mayoral office, but stopped mid-air when she heard a strange, musical sound coming from the other side of the door. She leaned her head closer to the closed door. It sounded like...laughter.

Regina was laughing.

Emma tried the handle, and, finding it unlocked, she slowly opened the door. The mayor's normally immaculate office space had been converted into a makeshift laboratory. Beakers and vials of all shapes and sizes crowded a desk that was usually stacked high with city contracts and proposals.

Regina looked at home in the black and white decorated office, which she had taken back from Snow not long after their return to Storybrooke. It had been an noble gesture on Regina's part to let Snow and Charming resume leadership of the tiny sea-side town after the first curse had been broken, but Snow and her husband had been rulers of a kingdom, and were ill-suited for running a town in this realm.

Regina wore one of her signature pantsuits, this one charcoal grey. She looked fierce from the black stilettos that adorned her feet up to the smoky eye shadow that framed her large, expressive eyes. She was leaning against her desk with her arms folded across her chest. The posture resulted in accentuating her already hard-to-ignore breasts that tested the durability of the third button of her Oxford shirt.

It was clear that the man with whom Regina was conversing was having a difficult time keeping his eyes above her shoulders—not that Emma could blame him. She'd often found her own gaze drifting lower and lower, especially after tuning out Regina during one of her verbal tirades.

Emma cleared her throat, garnering the attention of the two other people in the room. "Hi. I thought you might need lunch." She raised the slightly crumpled paper bag in her hand as evidence.

Regina stood to her full height and tugged at the cuffs of her grey suit jacket. "Emma, you remember Robin from yesterday."

"Uh huh," Emma grunted in response. "Nice to see you again."

Robin quickly bobbed his head in a kind of curtailed bow. "And you as well, Emma." He turned his attentions back to Regina. "I should probably be getting back to my Merry Men. I hope to run into you soon, Mayor Mills."

A small smile had affixed itself to Regina's mouth. "Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Hood."

Emma's eyes followed the man out the office door. She promptly shut it closed again with Robin's departure. "What was that about?"

Regina walked behind her impressive desk. "Robin was dropping off the census information to the sheriff's office. He stopped by to say hello."

"That was certainly thoughtful," Emma drawled.

Regina looked distracted by a thought. "Indeed."

"Did he ask what you're working on?"

"Of course. Wouldn't you be curious if you saw all of this?" Regina gestured to the chemistry set spread out on her desk.

"And you told him?" Emma practically gasped.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an amateur, Miss Swan. But even if I had, I don't think it would be a problem."

"How do you know that? What do we even know about him?" Emma pressed. "Wasn't he a thief or something in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Who robbed from the rich to give to the poor," Regina clarified with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, aren't we above playing the Villains vs. Hero card by now? You know things are never that black and white."

"Fine," Emma huffed, "but I don't have to like him."

"No one ever said anything about that," Regina countered. "Besides, you have enough boyfriends to keep you busy."

"Boyfriends?" Emma echoed.

"Walsh. That annoying one-handed pirate," Regina listed.

"Hook's a friend," Emma dismissed. "And Walsh … that's complicated."

"He's your boyfriend. And perhaps soon to be fiancé."

"Who knows nothing about me."

"Then why don't you tell him?" Regina challenged.

"That I'm the long-lost daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?" Emma shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "And don't give me that look, Regina. I don't see you telling Henry who you are."

"That's completely different," Regina defended. "If you see a future with this Walsh person, something's got to give."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, either you go back to New York and forget about us all, or you tell him the truth. It's as easy as that."

Emma bit her lower lip.

Regina wanted to kiss it.

Regina cleared her throat roughly. "You said something about lunch?"

"Oh. Yeah." Emma shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "I stopped at Granny's. You've been working non-stop. I thought you might need some brain food."

The hard look on Regina's face softened. She couldn't help it; she wasn't accustomed to so many random acts of kindness, especially not from the Savior. She wanted to thank Emma for the gesture, but that wasn't her style.

"If that's some trans-fat, grease-laden product you know what my answer is."

Emma pulled a clear plastic container from the bag and set it on the desk. "Cobb salad, dressing on the side. Granny said it's one of your go-to meals."

Regina pursed her lips. "I suppose it will do."

Emma inspected the complicated apparatus set up on Regina's desk. "Any progress?"

"I'm afraid not. It's complicated magic and unfortunately not something easily replicated in this realm. I'll keep at it though."

Emma continued to linger in Regina's office. Her presence was an unwarranted distraction.

"If there's nothing else, dear, I have work to do."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll see you later."

"Oh, Miss Swan..."

Emma stopped on her way out the door. "Yeah?"

"Your parents informed me they plan to arrive at my house tonight around seven. So don't even think about being late," she warned. "Heads will roll if I'm stuck making conversation with two anxious parents-to-be."

Emma nodded grimly before taking her leave.

 

+++++

"A little more to the left," Regina instructed. "No, not your left, Pirate," she sharply corrected. "Mine."

Regina and Ursula stood side-by-side in the front foyer of the mayor's mansion. "Does it really matter if it's hung straight?" Ursula pointed out.

Regina walked up to the hanging mirror and tapped at its edge with one finger, realigning it ever so slightly until she was satisfied. "I want it to look like it's been here the entire time. If something goes wrong tonight, that monkey will know we're on to him and we'll have lost the element of surprise."

Hook stared at his reflection and ran his one good hand over his stumbled chin. "So how's it work?"

Regina waved her hand across the mirror's reflective surface. The air around her hand wobbled and shimmered. "I've enchanted it. If there's a magical glamour hiding someone's true self, this mirror will be able to see it. All we need to do is get Walsh and Emma to stand in front of it, and he'll be revealed."

Hook continued to peer at his reflection. "How do we know if this thing is even on?"

"Me." Ursula took a step toward the mirror. She shooed the pirate out of the way and took his place in front of the mirror. From her waist up, Ursula appeared in the mirror just as she did in life-long, wavy hair and caramel-colored skin. But from her waist down, she was all iridescent fins.

"That's some trick," Ursula breathed.

"That's bloody amazing," Hook marveled.

"Just be sure you don't stand too close to the mirror when Walsh is around, Sharkbait," Regina warned.

The doorbell sounded, and Regina left Ursula and Hook in order to answer the front door. She forced a smile to her lips. Time to play hostess, she thought drearily to herself. She'd had far too much experience plastering a plastic smile to her lips and entertaining noiseome individuals prior to her husband King Leopold's untimely death. After she had taken over the throne, she had made a vow to herself that she would never have to play the role again, but now here she was, once again put in that position.

When she opened the door, her smile widened upon discovering who was standing at the entrance, but her joy quickly soured. She was delighted to see Henry on her front stoop, but the two visitors who accompanied him made her smile falter.

"Seven o'clock," Emma proclaimed. "Right on time."

Seeing Emma day after day was becoming complicated in ways Regina couldn't have expected. The blonde had shown up on her doorstep many times before, the first to bring Henry back after he'd run away and then again to assault her prized apple tree. But ever since Emma had shown up at her house to quell the angry mob after the first curse had been broken, each subsequent visited had been easier, lighter, flirtier?

Emma had called them friends, but Regina now thought she might want more from the Savior than friendship—something the third in their party would not approve of.

Walsh.

Regina flipped a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Welcome, everyone. So glad you could make it."

Henry ducked inside and stuck out his hand. "Thanks for having us over Ms. M-, I mean Regina."

"You're very welcome, Henry." Regina took his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "And how very polite of you to say so." Her gaze floated over to Emma, who'd just stepped inside herself. "Your mother raised you well."

"I had a little help," Emma mumbled for only Regina's ears. The two shared a smile-a private smile-Regina thought, which was only interrupted by the awkward thrusting of a wine bottle in her face.

"A gift for the hostess," Walsh said in a too-loud voice.

Regina accepted the bottle. "Thank you," she said, tight-lipped. She made a mental note to throw the bottle away later.

Henry, Emma, and Walsh lingered in the front foyer.

One big happy family, Regina sourly thought.

"Are we the first ones here?" Emma asked. She craned her neck to look deeper into Regina's home.

"No. Killian and Ursula arrived shortly before you all," Regina noted. "They're probably in the kitchen."

"Pilfering the rum and shrimp cocktail," Emma couldn't help but add.

Before Regina could settle into her role as hostess, the doorbell rang again.

Snow, David, and a woman Regina didn't recognize stood outside.

"I know it's poor etiquette, but I hope you don't mind us bringing along Zelena," Snow said apologetically. "She's going to be our midwife, and I thought tonight would be a good chance for her to get to know everybody."

"The more the merrier," Regina said in a flat tone.

She welcomed Snow and her prince inside, followed by the tall woman adorned in tweed. She was an unremarkable-looking woman minus the emerald pendant that hung around her neck.

"That's a lovely piece of jewelry…Zelena was it?" Regina remarked as she closed the front door.

Zelena absently touched her fingers to the green stone. "Why, thank you. It's a bit of a family heirloom. And might I compliment you on your home, Your Majesty. It's quite impressive."

Regina flicked her eyes around the foyer, worried that either Henry or Walsh might have heard the title. "We're not holding court here, dear. Please call me Regina," she stated quietly.

Regina regarded the midwife. There was something uncannily familiar about the woman, yet she was sure that they'd never met before, not in the Enchanted Forest or in Storybrooke.

"You're new to town, right?" Emma asked the question before Regina could voice it.

"Indeed. One minute I'm drawing water from a well in my village and the next I'm in this place."

Henry's eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

Regina realized, too late, the slip. She glared in Snow White's direction—she had brought a stranger into her home and she obviously hadn't warned the midwife about Henry and Walsh's knowledge of this place.

"Henry," Emma said loudly, "let's go check out the food situation. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

The doorbell rang again, announcing the arrival of yet another guest. Emma, being closer to the front door than Regina, answered the door in her stead.

She blinked, confused about the inclusion of the newest arrival to the party. "Robin?"

Robin Hood entered the mayoral mansion, eyes immediately seeking the lady of the house. He barely acknowledged Emma before stepping lively towards Regina.

"For you, Madam Mayor," he stated, producing a bouquet of wild flowers. "I wasn't sure what was appropriate, but I didn't want to come empty-handed."

"So you picked weeds?" Emma blurted out.

Regina accepted the proffered gift. "Nonsense. They're lovely." She shot Emma a censoring look. "Thank you, Mr. Hood, this was very thoughtful of you."

Robin smiled, looking pleased. "Please, call me Robin."

"Only if you'll call me Regina."

Emma loudly cleared her throat. "Who's hungry?"

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: thanks for sticking with this story! That slowburn is going to heat up soon

Emma was having a hard time paying attention to the conversations happening around her. She was faintly aware that Walsh was making awkward conversation with her father about his furniture business and Henry was telling an all-too interested Snow White about his school, his friends, and his soccer team back in New York. Instead, her attention had been focused on the raven-haired woman seated at the head of the table and the man seated at her right. The two had spoken to only each other, all dinner long, heads bent towards each other, conspiratorially.

"Right, Mom?"

Emma turned her attention in the direction of the voice trying to cull her attention. "Huh?"

Henry stared at her in earnest. "I said Regina's a good cook. Maybe she'd give you the recipe."

"Uh huh. Sure, kid," Emma said as she continued to be distracted and unfocused.

The food was delicious, but Emma could only manage to push her meal around on her plate instead of actually eating it. Her stomach was far too agitated to actually enjoy the food or the company that surrounded her.

The unconventional dinner guests were all seated around a long dining room table in Regina's formal dining room. Emma had never been in the room before, not that she'd ever had reason to be. She'd really only been allowed in the front study and the kitchen.

Emma's leg jerked when she felt a solid hand come to rest on her knee. Her upper thigh knocked into the dining room table, causing her place setting to rock and shudder.

Walsh looked at her with a wounded look in her eyes. Emma smiled apologetically. She knew she'd been behaving poorly and keeping her boyfriend at a distance since they'd arrived in Storybrooke-but even before then. If she let herself think on it, things had been tense between her and the furniture-maker since she'd happened upon Regina in New York. Something had to give. She had to re-commit to Walsh or cut him free.

She met Regina's stare across the table. She expected to be censured for nearly breaking Regina's dishes, but was met only with a curious look from the other woman before she returned to her private conversation with Robin Hood.

Emma scowled and shoveled more of her dinner into her mouth.

After plates had been cleared and wine glasses and coffee cups had been refilled, Emma found herself cornered by the one person she'd hoped to avoid that night: her mother.

Snow had never been one to pull punches: "Have you been avoiding me?"

Emma made a face. "Is it that obvious?"

"You mean how you run in the opposite direction when you see me?"

"I'm sorry. I haven't had a lot of time for anyone since being back. Not only are we dealing with a new curse, but I'm trying to get to the bottom of it without alarming Henry."

"And your boyfriend," Snow added.

Emma grimaced. "And him, too." She scanned the room to find Walsh among the figures. David had occupied his attention all evening. "Is this was paternal concern looks like?"

"Your father is only doing his due diligence. We've never had to go through this vetting process with a boyfriend before," she unnecessarily reminded Emma.

"Looks like you'll be going through a whole new set of firsts soon." She hadn't meant for it to happen, but a noticeable chill draped over her words

Snow looked momentarily confused until her hand came to rest on her swollen abdomen. "Emma, sweetheart-."

"I should go check on Henry," Emma interrupted her mother. "Besides Walsh, he really doesn't know anybody here."

Snow worried her bottom lip. "Okay. We'll talk later."

Emma slipped away from the party as unobtrusively as possible and escaped to the quiet of Regina's study. She let out a long sigh as she closed the office door behind her.

"Something wrong, dear?"

Emma stiffened and turned. She had thought herself alone. She hadn't expected Regina to be in the den.

The Storybrooke mayor sat on one of the couches, one leg crossed over the other. In her right hand she held a rocks glass that contained a small amount of an amber liquid.

"Sorry," Emma abruptly apologized. "I didn't know anyone was in here. I just needed to get away for a second." She put her hand on the door handle. "I can go though."

"It's fine, Miss Swan." Regina rose smoothly from the couch and strode over to a small wooden cart that contained several glasses and bottles of hard liquor. "Would you like a drink?"

Not waiting for an answer, Regina filled a second rocks glass with two-fingers worth of the same amber liquid that was in her glass. She pressed the glass into Emma's waiting hand.

"Thanks," Emma said thickly. "What are you doing in here?"

"I needed a moment to myself," Regina revealed. "I find being a proper hostess to be draining. All that fake smiling takes its toll."

Emma took a small, experimental sip of her beverage. She had expected it to be Regina's cider but was surprised to discover bourbon instead.

"And what are you escaping from?" Regina asked. "Or rather, who?"

"Snow." Emma gulped down the rest of her drink. The bourbon burned down her throat. "I know she means well, but it's all so overwhelming."

"You mean the fact that you'll soon be a big sister?"

Emma nodded. "I don't want to feel this way. I shouldn't be upset like this."

"I used to feel that way when I saw you with Henry," Regina admitted. "Even though I'd been there for the first decade of his life, I couldn't help feeling like I'd been replaced and betrayed."

"I'm doing my best, you know? But every time I think things are going back to how they'd been before I left Storybrooke, I get an eyeful of my mom's pregnant stomach."

"It is rather obscene," Regina remarked. "She looked just as wretched when she was pregnant with you."

Emma's brow furrowed. "Damn, that's really weird to think about. If you hadn't cast the curse, you would have seen me grow up. You'd be like, old by now."

"Watch it, dear," Regina huffed.

"Don't worry. You look pretty good for being what...seventy? Eighty?"

Regina looked horrified. "Just how old do you think I was when I enacted the curse?"

"Math's never been my best subject," Emma shrugged. "Not that it matters," she couldn't help adding. "Robin Hood seems to enjoy the way you look just the way you are."

"Robin?" Regina furrowed her brow. "What does he have to do with any of this?"

"I thought this was supposed to be a family dinner," Emma noted, her voice bordering on accusatory.

"No, I told you I would invite other people so you wouldn't feel like Snow and David were smothering you and your boyfriend. You did notice Hook and Ursula, right?"

"Yeah, but why invite Robin? You could have asked Ruby or Belle, or hell, even Leroy to come."

Regina swirled around the liquid in the bottom of her rocks glass. "I enjoy his company."

"Is this a date?" Emma practically gaped.

Regina stiffened and stood to her full height. "Don't be ridiculous. I have no romantic leanings for the woodsman."

"He's not my type, but if you really like him, I say go for it," Emma frowned. "What have you got to lose?"

"Miss Swan, as hard as this may be to imagine, I wasn't waiting for your blessing. There's nothing between Robin and me." She took a sip of the alcohol and let it burn down her throat. "Besides, I've already had my chance at love."

"Regina—."

"We should be getting back to the party," Regina cut Emma off. "I'm being negligent in my hostess responsibilities."

Regina exited her den in a near-blind rage. Her frustration only continued to build when she nearly ran into the one-handed pirate in the hallway.

"Why couldn't you leave them alone?" Regina demanded.

Hook looked baffled and taken aback by the former Evil Queen's outburst. "Them?"

"Emma and Henry," Regina snapped. "Why couldn't you leave them be in New York?"

"She's the Savior," Hook said in explanation. "She had to come back."

"Hasn't she done enough saving for one lifetime? And let's drop this whole noble act. You only wanted her back for your own selfish reasons."

"Which is why I don't understand why you're not on board with me, Your Majesty. If Emma stays, so does Henry."

"Without his memories," she snapped. "He has no idea who I am."

"Look I-" Hook cut himself off when he heard another voice.

"Where have you been all night?" It was Walsh.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Hook muttered under his breath.

"For what-"

Hook grabbed onto Regina's wrist and swiftly pulled her into the hallway closet with him.

"What are you doing, pirate?" she hissed.

Hook held his hook up to his lips in a silent signal that she should be quiet as well.

Two figures turned the corner: Walsh and Emma.

"Where did you disappear to?" Walsh asked.

"I didn't disappear," Emma rejected. "It's just a big house."

"I've been wanting to talk to you about something, but the timing never seems to be right."

"I know," Emma acknowledged, apologetically. "Things have been a little chaotic lately, but it won't always be this way."

Regina and Hook peered through the slats in the closet door. Regina felt guilty for spying on Emma in what was clearly an intimate, private moment between her and her flying monkey, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. She could always magic herself to another part of the house, but she didn't know where Henry currently was and she couldn't risk it.

"Emma, these past few days have made me realize something."

Regina watched Walsh reach into his back pocket. A feeling of sudden realization struck her: he was reaching for the engagement ring. Walsh was going to propose to Emma, and Regina was going to be forced to watch it happen.

Walsh licked his lips. "Emma, I-"

Regina pressed her palms against the back of the closet door. She had to stop this from happening.

Walsh's eyes left Emma's face and focused on something just beyond her shoulder. His voice pitched up and grew in volume.

"The bloody mirror," Hook whispered. "He sees himself."

Regina had nearly forgotten that the pirate was standing beside her. She held her breath. Walsh and Emma were so close to the enchanted mirror. A few more steps in one direction and they would both have a view of their reflections.

"Come on." Walsh abruptly grabbed Emma and turned her so her back faced the mirror. "We should get back to the party."

With one fleeting glance towards his true reflection, Walsh ushered Emma back in the direction of the party.

Regina released the breath she'd been holding. "That was terribly close," she muttered. In more ways than one. "We should probably get back to the party as well."

"You know, Regina. We don't have to go back to the party immediately." Hook's tone dropped suggestively.

"Touch me and you'll lose the other hand," Regina threatened.

Regina left the hallway closet, but quickly shut the door behind her, barring Hook's own exit when she spotted Robin turning the corner.

"Regina," Robin grinned, "I'm glad I found you. Thank you for the invitation and for a lovely evening, but I should be taking my leave now."

Regina subconsciously flicked a lock of hair away from her forehead, too embarrassed that Robin might have seen her come out of a closet to really focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

"Roland is with the Merry Men and as much as I trust them," Robin continued, "I get anxious being away from him for too long."

Regina's gaze traveled over Robin's shoulder where she spotted Henry, who stood talking with David. The smile on his face simultaneously warmed her and broke her heart. "I understand completely. It looks like the party is starting to break up early anyway."

The majority of the dinner party was filtering into the front hallway.

"I'm sorry to cut the night short, Regina," Snow apologized as David helped her with her jacket. "We should be getting home, too."

"Yes, we've got to get our mom-to-be off her feet," Zelena chirped.

David shook hands with Walsh. "It was nice to meet you, Walsh. I hope to see you before you head out of town, but if not, safe travels."

Henry looked perplexed by this news. "You're leaving?"

Walsh looked uncomfortable by all the attention now focused on him. "I've got to get back to the city and my store. I can't be on vacation forever." He shot a meaningful glance in Emma's direction.

"Oh, how clumsy of me!" a startled voice called out.

There was a flurry of movement and suddenly both David and Walsh were tripping over each other and falling-in the direction of the enchanted mirror.

David fell against Walsh, whose shoulder struck against the closest wall. The wall prevented the men from completely falling over, but the impact caused the wall to brace and shudder, knocking the enchanted mirror from its hooks.

Regina had been having a hard time keeping up with all the conversations and movement going on in her front foyer as her dinner guests had begun putting on their jackets to leave. She had no idea how David and Walsh had gotten so tangled up. All she knew was that the mirror that had once hung on the wall in the front hallway was now on the floor, irreparably shattered.

"Nobody move!" Emma jumped into action. "I'll get a broom."

"Don't bother, Miss Swan," Regina sighed. "I can clean this all up once everybody leaves."

"Oh, uh, right," Emma bobbed her head in understanding.

"Pity about that mirror," Zelena clucked. "I suppose someone's in for seven years of bad luck."

When the last of the dinner party guests had left, Regina stood in the front foyer, flanked by her unlikely posse of Hook and Ursula.

"Well that was a bust," Ursula sourly complained.

"And now Walsh knows we're on to him," Hook added.

"The mirror was too passive," Regina thought out loud. "If we're going to rid Emma of that monkey, I'll have to do what I should have done a very long time ago."

"Take his heart?" Hook guessed.

"No," Regina shook her head. "Something even worse."

The pirate and the former sea queen eagerly leaned forward.

Regina wet her lips and sighed. "I'm going to have to tell the truth."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: thanks for the continued support! If you're a fan of my fan fiction, check out my original novels on Amazon - Eliza Lentzski

Regina stared in disbelief. She blinked once. Twice. The visual refused to go away.

"You said yes."

Emma looked down at her hand. "I'm just taking it for a test drive," she weakly explained.

After the dinner party at her house had broken up, Regina had driven over to Granny's diner to the rental units above the restaurant. She hadn't been sure Emma would have returned straight to her rented room, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep that night until she spoke with the Savior. She needed to tell Emma the truth about Walsh.

Emma had answered the door barefoot and wearing jeans and a tank top. The view of the blonde's highly sculpted arm muscles as they clutched the open door was distracting, but not so much that Regina didn't notice the sparkling rock on Emma's left ring finger.

"You can't marry that-that..." Regina didn't even know what to call Walsh. He certainly wasn't a man. "I forbid it."

Emma's nostrils flared. "You what?"

Emma flicked her eyes back into her room. Henry was sitting on the bed with his ear buds in and was playing a game on his phone, blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Emma stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind her to give them some privacy.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say you forbid me from making a decision about who I will or will not marry," Emma stated between clenched teeth, "and we are going to talk about this like adults."

Emma's words caused Regina to flinch. "How? When did this happen?" she demanded. They had barely been apart. Emma couldn't have left her home half an hour ago.

"He asked me on the car ride home."

"In a car? In front of Henry?" This was getting worse by the minute.

"I didn't say yes, Regina."

"You're wearing an engagement ring."

Emma found herself unable to meet Regina's smokey stare. "I told him I needed time."

"Where is he?" Regina demanded.

Emma nodded to the closed door across the hallway. "He said he'd give me until morning."

Regina spun on her heels and knocked hard-unrelenting-on the door to Walsh's rented room. The wooden door vibrated on its hinges.

Emma grabbed Regina's arm and wrenched her away, refusing to let her knock any more. "Have you lost your mind?"

Emma was close-too close. Regina could practically smell the other woman's light perfume. "Unhand me, Swan," she growled. She shook herself free from Emma's grasp and smoothed her hands down the front of her outfit to calm herself.

"Go home, Regina," Emma ordered. "I don't know what's gotten into you or why you're acting like this, but it's late and it's clear that this conversation is going nowhere."

"You can't-"

"I can," Emma cut off the former queen's complaint. "I have no idea what I'm going to say to Walsh in the morning, but what I do know is that this is my decision, and mine alone. Too much of my life has been decided for me, despite what I wanted. I'd have thought you of all people, Regina, could appreciate that."

Regina's shoulders slumped with the weight of guilt. "You're right," she said in a defeated tone. "I'm-I'm sorry, Emma. I never meant to be a hypocrite about this." She paused and licked her lips. "I know you probably won't believe it, but I only want what's best for you-I just want to see you happy. After all you've been through-most of it because of me-you deserve happiness."

Regina straightened her shoulders and pulled herself to her full height. "Have an nice evening, Miss Swan."

Emma remained in the hallway and watched Regina's retreat. She held her body erect and proud, high heels clicking on the floor, until she disappeared out of view.

Once Regina had gone, Emma reached for the door handle of her rented room. She paused when the unfamiliar sparkle on her ring finger caught her attention. With a final look at the diamond and band, Emma returned to her room and Henry.

It was going to be a long night.

"What are they saying?" Ursula whispered.

"I can't hear a bloody thing," Hook complained.

"Probably because you're talking, you idiots," Regina muttered. She stared down at the ceramic mug of coffee she held cupped in her hands. Wisps of steam curled in the space just above the murky, black liquid.

Regina reluctantly sat with her two unlikely accomplices at a booth at Granny's. At a table across the diner were Walsh and Emma. When she'd arrived that morning for breakfast and had seen the couple, she'd thought it best to sit as far away as possible. She didn't want to risk pushing Emma away anymore than she already had.

"Why are we trying to eavesdrop on them anyway? What happened to you telling Emma the truth?" Ursula pressed.

"I made a mistake last night. I came on too strong and Emma wouldn't hear it," Regina explained with a sigh.

Regina brought the cup up to her mouth and blew across the surface of the hot coffee. The previous night had been a disaster. She'd lost her cool and Emma had turned her away. Regina hadn't been able to find sleep all night thinking about the decision Emma had to make.

"That's quite the bobble on her finger," Hook observed.

"Jealous, Pirate?" Ursula grinned.

Hook snorted. "The bloke's a little quick with the trigger finger, don't you think? They haven't even known each other a year."

"So what now?" Ursula asked. "We sit back and let Emma marry a monkey?"

"You live under the sea, the pirate is centuries old, and I'm-" Regina paused. "And we all know I'm not quite as advertised either. Emma's a grown woman. We let her make her own mistakes."

"Even if that means taking Henry back to New York with them?" Ursula asked.

"Something's happening," Regina observed out loud.

Walsh had practically leapt from his seat at the booth. From where they sat, she couldn't tell if it was frustration or jubilation that moved the man. She sincerely hoped it was the former.

Regina moved without thinking. She rose from her booth seat and silently followed where Walsh and Emma had disappeared to upstairs. Her high-heels struck noisily against the stairs up to the second floor, but the sound was muted compared to the yelling she heard coming from Walsh's bedroom.

"It's been practically a year, Emma, and you're still doing it-still keeping secrets from me."

"You know I have a hard time letting people in," she heard Emma's frustrated voice.

"I don't know why you won't come back to New York with me," Walsh's voice protested. "We were happy in New York."

"I told you-I have unfinished business here."

"Why'd you have to drink that memory potion," Walsh complained.

"Excuse me?"

Regina rushed into the room. Emma stood, dumbstruck while Walsh glared in contempt.

"Get away from her, primate," Regina demanded.

Walsh's eyes glowed a neon green upon seeing the mayor in his room. "You," he hissed. "If it hadn't been for your meddling and interfere-"

Regina had heard enough. She summoned a ball of fire and let it hover in her open palm.

"Regina, no!" Emma cried out.

Instead of cowering in fear or confusion, Walsh dove for Regina. She had only meant to use the magic as a toothless threat, but now that the despicable man had taken the offense, she aimed for Walsh and unleashed the magic fireball. It connected squarely in the man's chest, but instead of causing him to disintegrate, his human form exploded to reveal an oversized winged monkey.

"What the hell is that?" Emma bellowed.

"Your fiance, Miss Swan," Regina pronounced.

The dark winged figure raised its hands above its body and smashed its fists down, splintering the wooden floor.

Regina produced a second fireball and released it toward Walsh.

The monkey shrieked and vaulted in the air to avoid being struck again. Its hulking body crashed through the plaster ceiling and clear through the roof of Granny's diner. Regina and Emma stared through the hole in the roof as the monkey spread its powerful wings and flew away.

Emma sat down hard on the edge of the mattress. "What. Just. Happened."

Regina sat beside the befuddled blonde. "It would seem, my dear," she said gently, "that Walsh wasn't the man you thought he was."

"I don't understand. He owns a furniture shop in New York. He sells couches and area rugs." She shook her head. "He was supposed to be just a normal guy."

"Emma." Regina toyed with the quilted material of the comforter up in which they sat. "I have a confession to make. I knew about Walsh."

"What do you mean you knew?"

"I knew he was from my world-our world," she self-corrected. "That night after you brought me to the Broadway show..."

"And we were attacked in the alleyway," Emma gasped as she remembered the moment. "Why would he have done that?"

"To send me a message, I suppose. I told you how he warned me to stay away from you. When he threatened me at the hotel bar, I saw the green flash in his eyes. It was the same as what I'd seen in the monkey's eyes."

Emma clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides. "I knew all of this was too good to be true. No one could ever want to be with me unless it was a trap or a trick or a scheme to keep me in New York."

"Stop fishing for compliments, Miss Swan." Regina tensed. "You know that's not true."

"Right," Emma snorted. "Because people are busting down the door because I'm so desirable."

"Have you ever considered that maybe I want you?"

"What?"

"I certainly didn't stutter."

Regina summoned her courage around her like a fortress. She grabbed Emma by the front of her shirt and drew her in for a crushing kiss.

Emma jerked backwards in surprise. She touched her fingertips to her lips. "What ... You..."

Regina almost felt sorry for the other woman. First her boyfriend turned into a circus animal and now her arch nemesis had kissed her.

Regina stood from the bed. "I'm sorry Walsh didn't turn out to be the man you thought he was," she said stiffly." She turned as if to leave.

"No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to kiss me and then leave as if nothing happened."

"We have a monkey to find, Miss Swan."

Emma stood up and invaded Regina's personal space.  
"Fine. But don't for a second think I'm gonna let you forget that kiss."

Emma turned and stomped out of the rental room.

Regina pressed her own fingertips to her lips. "Don't worry, Emma," she murmured to herself. "You're in no danger of that happening."

TBC

 


	19. Chapter 19

The air was heavy with a damp, thick mist. The seaside town often was plagued with fog that rolled off the marina and hung stagnant in the air. Normally the dewy weather was welcomed in this kind of police work as it made it easier to find shoe impressions in the forest that surrounded the city, but this time they weren't looking for someone who traveled by foot.

The flat heels of Emma's knee-high leather boots sunk into the soft earth. Each step was made more laborious because of the moisture in the forest ground. She lamented the mud that now caked the bottoms of her favorite shoes, but she knew she would get no sympathy from her current company.

Regina had called upon the assistance of Robin Hood and Little John, and she, Emma, and David now scoured the forests that surrounded Storybrooke in search of the winged monkey.

David stared at the ground with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. He had been unusually quiet since they'd left the sheriff's office earlier that afternoon.

Emma nudged him in the side. "Hey, what's up?"

"I failed you, Emma. It's a father's job to identity poor suitors. I should have known there was something off about Walsh."

"It's not your fault," Emma assured him. "I was with the guy for nine months without ever suspecting anything was wrong. He fooled us all."

At her words, she flicked her eyes to Regina who now walked beside Little John. Regina hadn't been fooled. She'd tried to warn Emma-several times-but each time Emma had ignored her, denied her, was too stubborn to see Regina's caution as anything but a selfish refusal for Emma's happiness.

Emma was upset about Walsh. But she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that Regina's pronouncement and the hasty ensuing kiss weighed more heavily on her mind as they trampled through the forests of Storybrooke in search of the winged monkey.

Emma was forced to stop when the sleeve of her wool jacket tangled on the thorny reach of a low shrub.

Noticing her struggle, Robin sprung into action. "Here. Let me help you with that."

"I'm good," Emma insisted.

She tugged violently to wretch herself free before the chivalrous woodsman could assist her. She grimaced when she heard the sound of fabric snagging and ripping, but she managed to escape the prickled bush on her own.

Robin offered her a soft smile before returning to the front of their small caravan.

Regina waited for Emma to catch up with the group. "Everything okay back here?" she asked benignly.

"Perfect," Emma lied. "Why is he here?" she asked, nodding in Robin's direction. The man had stopped to stoop and inspect the soft earth.

Regina shoved her hands into the pockets of her wool coat. They'd been searching fruitlessly for Walsh for hours and the damp chill in the air was starting to affect her. "Because he's a tracker. He knows these forests. He's currently our best resource."

"I'm good at finding people," Emma practically pouted.

"You use computers to find people, Emma. This is out of your element. And that's okay," Regina assured her.

Regina shuddered suddenly. Her entire carriage wobbled with the force of it.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked, full of concern.

"Nothing." Regina withdrew her hands from her pockets and blew on the icy skin. "I'm just cursing myself for not planting Storybrooke someplace warmer."

Unthinking, Emma grabbed Regina's hands and began to rub them between her own to generate heat.

"How are you so warm?" Regina wondered aloud.

Emma shrugged. "I've always run hot."

"Indeed," Regina quietly murmured.

The low burr of Regina's voice made Emma shift her eyes to the ground in discomfort, but she continued to hold Regina's hands in her own.

Regina hadn't exactly ignored her since the kiss only a few hours earlier, but there was nothing in her demeanor or their interactions to suggest it had ever happened. Regina had been business as usual, which was starting to make Emma feel like she'd dreamed up the whole thing.

"I still don't like him," Emma said for only Regina's ears.

"Quiet."

"I'm allowed to have an opinion," Emma stubbornly insisted.

"No, not that." Regina rolled her eyes. "I thought I heard something."

"I heard something, too," Little John chimed in.

The canopy of trees above them seemed to part in an instant, and a large winged animal swooped beneath the rolling fog and scooped Little John off of his feet.

The dark-furred monkey jetted into the air and hovered in place with Little John dangling from its clutches.

Regina produced a ball of fire, and it hovered in her palm. "I've been waiting a long time for this, monkey."

"No!" Robin yelled. "You might hit Little John!"

"I know what I'm doing!" Regina snapped back, but she didn't throw the magical flame.

"Walsh!" Emma hollered loudly. "Let him go!"

The winged monkey seemed to look to Emma first in hesitation, but then his glowing eyes came to rest on the dark-haired woman standing beside her and he released a high-pitched shriek that had them all cringing and covering their ears.

Little John kicked his legs back and forth, wildly scissoring them in the air, but his struggle was futile. The winged beast had its long talons sunk deep into the man's meaty shoulders and refused to let go.

The group could only watch in horror as Emma's near-fiance carried their friend away.

* * *

"Walsh left, didn't he?"

Emma stared at her inquisitive son. She'd returned to their rented room feeling chilled to the bone and discouraged that not only had their search been unsuccessful, they'd now lost Little John. The group had given up for the night with the promise to resume their search in the morning.

Emma tried to be as honest as she could with her son without revealing too much. Henry had always valued honesty. "Walsh and I...we had a parting of ways. I don't know exactly where he went, but I think it's safe to say he's not coming back."

"Are you going to be okay?" Henry asked.

"Oh, Henry."

Emma felt her chin and bottom lip start to quiver. Henry had grown up to be such a sensitive, conscientious boy: a son she was so terribly proud of. But she hadn't been the one to instill those characteristics in him-Regina had done that.

"I'm going to be okay, yes. But what about you?" she asked, turning the question back on him. "Are you okay with all of this?"

Henry shrugged noncommittally. "I liked Walsh okay. He was the first guy you ever brought around me, so I guess I thought he was special or something."

_If being a winged monkey makes someone special, Walsh was the most special of them all_ , Emma thought to herself.

Henry swung his feet back and forth over the edge of the bed, making him look younger than his teenaged years. "Are we staying here for good?" he asked.

"In this room, no," Emma regarded her son and his open, earnest face. "What do you think of Storybrooke so far?"

"To be honest, I haven't seen MUCH beyond this room and Miss Mills' house."

Emma frowned at the truth in his words. "I know, kid. And I'm sorry about that. But that's going to change soon."

She was still achingly cold and in need of a warm shower to thaw out her bones, but she grabbed her jacket to go back out again.

"Will you be okay for a little bit?" she asked. "I've got to go meet up with someone."

"I'd be doing even better if I had the new PlayStation," Henry grinned.

"Not a chance, kid."

* * *

Regina was eating a piece of lasagna leftover from the dinner she'd hosted the previous evening. She sat by herself at the end of the grand table in her dining room, swirling the contents of her nearly empty wine glass around and around, mesmerized by the centrifugal motion of the ruby red liquid. She had gotten used to eating alone, but she still insisted on eating at the dining room table rather than sitting in the living room, hunched over and eating off her lap in front of the television. She had standards to uphold, after all.

Family dinner with Henry had once been her favorite time of the day. Knowing she would be returning to her home and to Henry's boyish energy and infectious smile had gotten her through her worst days as mayor when all she'd wanted to do was set Storybrooke on fire and watch it burn to the ground. Henry's excited chatter about what he'd learned that day in school had been her reset button. But all of that had changed when Emma Swan had shown up in Regina's town, driving that wretched little yellow Bug.

She couldn't help that her thoughts by default seemed to drift to the blonde woman. Regina had become obsessed with the woman she was certain would be her ruin. She just hadn't expected that ruin would be in the form of another broken heart.

_She'd kissed Emma Swan_. Regina took the final sip from her wine glass and let that thought flow over her mind like the wine bathed her tongue. _She'd kissed Emma Swan._

The kiss had clearly surprised Emma—Regina had been surprised herself. Even though she had thought about it too many times, she had never thought she'd actually act upon those impulses. And now that she had, she had honestly expected more of a reaction or response from Emma. Regina had dismissed the kiss and had told Emma they needed to find Walsh first, but when had Emma ever obeyed her orders?

The sound of the doorbell pulled Regina from her thoughts. She left her unfinished plate of food on the table to see who was at her front door.

When she answered the door, Regina felt her chest tighten. "Emma," she breathed.

Emma stood, looking awkward on her front stoop, as she had so many times before. "Hey. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, of course not. I was having dinner, but I can always reheat it. Are you hungry?" she asked. "I've got leftover lasagna."

Emma placed her palm against her abdomen. She hadn't eaten since her curtailed breakfast with Walsh that morning. She hoped her stomach wouldn't choose that moment to betray her.

"No, thanks. I can't stay. I just came by to tell you I can't do this anymore. Not to you and not to Henry."

Regina frowned. "Can't do what, dear?"

"Be here. In Storybrooke. I did my Saving already. I'm all saved out. I thought I was doing the right thing by coming back, but now I'm not so sure."

Region's frown deepened. "Is this because I kissed you?"

"What? Of course not."

"Then why this sudden change of plans?" Regina demanded. "I thought you were going to stick around until we figured out who was behind the second curse?"

"I was fooling myself to think I could be the Savior and Henry's mom," Emma answered. "I have to do what's best for Henry. I took him away from school and his friends for what? He's cooped up in a room above Granny's all day long because I'm afraid someone's going to slip up and expose this place in front of him. And now there's a flying monkey going around and scooping people away. It would be different if he had his memories. I could warn him about what's happened—I could protect him. And it's unfair to you, too, Regina," she continued, "to have him around without him knowing who you are to him. Don't pretend it's not killing you."

Regina was quiet for a moment before giving her response. "You sound like you've given this a great amount of thought," she said carefully.

"Not really," Emma admitted. "I've always kind of lived by the seat of my pants. I guess I just recently got clarity on all of this."

Emma could see the fine muscles in Regina's jawline flex and tense.

"When will you be leaving?" Regina tried to school her tone as she schooled her features, but it didn't work. She hated how needy and desperate her voice sounded to her own ears.

Emma looked away and raked her fingers through her hair. "I have to talk to Henry about this still. But in the morning, I guess. We had a real good thing going in New York, ya know?"

A stubborn lump had formed in Regina's throat. She had to clear her throat several times to dislodge it. "Yes, I remember."

"You can still visit whenever you want," Emma insisted. "I'm just trying to do what's best for our son."

Regina brought a closed fist to her mouth. "Is there anything else, Miss Swan?"

The corner of Emma's mouth twitched. "No. I guess not."

"Then have a good night. Do drive safe," Regina clipped before shutting the door.

* * *

Regina pressed her palm flat against the back of the door. Her head felt too heavy for her neck, like she no longer had the strength to lift it. The downward pull of gravity threatened to drop solid, salty tears on the sterile marble tile of her foyer, but she wiped them away with the back of her other hand before they could fall.

" _Don't do this_ ," the self-preserving part of her brain warned her. " _Don't be a fool. She'll still leave you in the morning_."

" _Oh, shut up_ ," her heart replied.

She reached for the door handle and pulled.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to earn that M rating. Don't read this at work. Or church. ;)

Regina spotted the sulking sheriff across her yard, head bent in rejection, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, as she walked away in the direction of her parked car.

"Emma," Regina called out. The name nearly caught in her throat.

Emma turned at the sound of Regina's voice. The deeply etched frown that marred her beautiful features softened, but didn't entirely go away. Instead of retreating, she began to walk back towards the Mifflin Street mansion, and her final steps quickened, her legs seemingly elongating, to narrow the distance as if she feared Regina might send her away again.

Regina opened her mouth, but she didn't know what she might say. She hadn't thought past stopping Emma from leaving. But it turned out, she didn't need to speak.

Emma continued toward her, and in one fluid motion, her outstretched hand curved up Regina's neck. Her fingers traveled through glossy, raven-black hair and pulled Regina toward her until their parted mouths had no choice but to meet.

Emma lifted her second hand to Regina's cheek and cupped the other woman's face in a fierce, impassioned kiss. Regina made a small noise of surprise when Emma's tongue pushed past her teeth and danced in her mouth. She pressed back to meet the aggressive stance of the slightly taller woman until they became a tangle of arms and tongues and gnashing teeth.

Emma pushed forward to walk Regina back into her home. With her hands currently occupied, she used the heel of her boot to close the front door. Regina had only enough spare space in her consciousness to register that Emma had probably left a scuffmark on the back of her door, but she was too far gone to care.

"Why?" Regina managed the one-worded question when they finally pulled away to come up for air.

"I figured I owed you."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Are we even now?"

"I don't think so. Do you?"

"Upstairs," came Regina's one-worded answer.

She didn't wait for Emma's reply before grabbing her hand and turning to climb the stairs.

Emma obediently followed Regina up the wide, plush staircase that led to the second-level of the mayor's home. Normally she would have taken in the details of yet another part of Regina's home she had never seen before if not for the distraction of the slight sway in Regina's walk as she ascended the stairs and the way her backside flexed with each step.

Emma felt her palms grow sweaty as she carefully maneuvered the stairs. It wasn't from the exertion of climbing stairs though; it had everything to do with the woman who held her hand and guided her upstairs.

Regina's king-sized bed dwarfed the large master bedroom. The presence of the meticulously made bed and the mountain of useless, decorative pillows grounded Emma, forcing her to take stock of what it seemed like they were about to do.

Emma dropped Regina's hand and hesitated in the doorway. "Have you ever ... with a woman?" she asked.

"It's been a while," Regina conceded, "but as Queen, I took pleasure in both male and female companions."

"Oh." Emma blinked once. "How very … _progressiv_ e of you."

Regina slid a single finger beneath Emma's chin. "Do I detect jealousy, my dear?"

Emma's emerald eyes stared defiantly back. "No."

"I wanted to set that Walsh man on fire the moment I knew who he was to you," Regina admitted.

A small, pleased smile reached Emma's lips. "Really?"

"I'm not one for empty flattery. I meant it when I called you exquisite, Emma," Regina stated. "Even when I was despising your existence, I could recognize how special you were."

Emma could no longer hold her eye contact. The way Regina looked at her with such desire and focus had her melting beneath its intensity.

"Kiss me, Emma," Regina commanded.

The tip of Emma's tongue wet the cleft in her bottom lip.

Emma tentatively took a step into Regina's personal space and carefully rested her hands on the other woman's hips. She moved with cautious precision as if in a dream-like state. She still couldn't believe that this was happening. But it felt like something that had been a longtime coming.

Still in her boots, Emma was slightly taller than Regina in her bare feet. She allowed herself an indulgent moment to stare deep into Regina's caramel-colored eyes. She had never felt bold enough to do so in the past. Anytime their eyes had locked, she'd quickly looked away, afraid of the repercussions of having been caught staring.

Regina's dark eyes fluttered shut when the hands at her hips tightened and firmly, but slowly, pulled her closer. Emma's fingers went to the front of Regina's Oxford shirt. She tugged the shirt free from the waistband of Regina's black dress pants and, starting with the lowest fasten, began to unbutton Regina's shirt, one button at a time. Beneath the fabric of Regina's cotton shirt, the tips of Emma's fingers slipped over skin that was impossibly soft and firm at the same time. Regina audibly hissed at the tentative contact.

How she ached to see what was under Regina's clothes. She'd been tempted—so tempted—to let her gaze linger longer than what was proper when they'd been in Regina's hotel room in New York, but the knowledge that Regina had been drunk had had her looking elsewhere. Now she no longer had that excuse, and her eyes drank greedily of the exquisite body that slowly came into view.

One button after the next were freed from their strangling noose until Regina's shirt hung loose on her body with the center plane of her body exposed: the feminine abdomen, the bra-encased breasts, the defined collarbone.

"I want to burn this memory in my mind," Emma told her. "I want to always remember you like this."

"We're just getting started," Regina husked.

Regina grabbed the bottom hem of Emma's cotton Henley top and pulled the garment up and over Emma's upper torso. Her hands went next to the heavy leather belt around the other woman's waist. She tugged up—hard—causing Emma to quietly groan when the material of her jeans dug roughly into her sex.

Regina peppered warm kisses across Emma's shoulders and collarbone and her hands went to unfasten Emma's belt and unsnap the top button of her jeans.

Emma clamped her fingers around Regina's wrist, stopping her. "Are you sure about this?" she panted.

Regina's eyes flashed in warning. She abhorred the interruption. She didn't want to think, she just wanted to feel. "No."

The fingers around Regina's wrist loosened and she took that opportunity to dive deeper into the front of Emma's jeans, shove the cotton swatch of her underwear to the side, and slide her outstretched fingers across Emma's slick heat. Both women simultaneously groaned, Emma at the feeling germinating between her thighs and Regina at feeling the wetness that had already accumulated there.

"Oh my God, Regina," Emma gasped.

Regina felt the familiar tug of a patented smirk tug at her lips when she swiped the pad of her thumb across Emma's clit causing the other woman's knees to brace and buckle.

Beneath the tight confines of Emma's jeans, Regina wiggled her fingers as best she could. Emma soon grew impatient with the awkward bumping and difficult angle and took it upon herself to remove her boots and pull her jeans past her hips and thighs and calves to afford Regina more room.

Regina carefully withdrew her hand from Emma's underwear and brought her fingers to her mouth. Her eye contact pinned Emma in place as she slowly licked the blonde's arousal from her fingers.

"Delicious," she husked.

"Are you gonna get naked, too?" Emma asked, trying not to faint on the spot at the sight of Regina licking her fingers clean. "I'm feeling a little overdressed here."

Regina's eyelashes fluttered prettily. "I think I can manage that, Emma."

Emma loved the way Regina said her name—the way it tripped and tickled across her tongue. She shivered slightly, anticipating just what that tongue might feel like on the rest of her body.

Regina slipped out of her open dress shirt and reached behind her back to locate the fastening to her bra. With one deft move, she unclipped the eyelet and the bra fell delicately to the floor along with her shirt. Her hands went to the front of her dress pants next and she popped free the hidden button and slowly inched the front zipper down, keenly aware of the emerald eyes that hungrily watched her.

When Regina was stripped down to her underwear, Emma made the next move, falling back onto the mattress, and in one fluid motion, she pulled Regina down on top of her. Regina's knee instinctively went between Emma's slightly parted thighs, and she was unable to stifle her moan. When their naked breasts touched for the first time, they kissed fiercely; their tongues dueled and teeth gnashed unapologetically.

Regina knew she would probably have a panic attack in the morning, but for now she tried to enjoy this moment. She pushed the naysayers and nagging voices from her thoughts. Emma Swan was in her bed. Emma Swan was hungrily pressing her mouth against her own; Emma Swan was whimpering with need.

With each touch, Emma became bolder and Regina became less anxious. She pressed her knee harder against the juncture between Emma's thighs, and whose body lifted from the mattress and molded against Regina's slight curves.

Regina's right hand found its way between Emma's thighs where her knee had been pressed. She cupped her there, hard, feeling Emma's warmth burning through the thin material of her underwear. Regina dug her heel in and rubbed in a wide circle, providing pressure—just enough to keep Emma clawing at her back—but not enough for her to grow lazy from her own desire. It was a delicate balance, this give-and-take. Satisfy too soon and one's own needs go unattended.

Regina summoned an unexpected willpower and tore herself away from Emma's quickly addictive mouth. _We have time_ , she reassured herself. They didn't have to paw each other like teenagers fumbling and groping in the back of a car in an abandoned parking lot.

Emma's breath was still uneven as she lay on her back, and Regina watched the ragged rise and fall of her chest. She ran her fingertips down the center of Emma's body, down the fine column of her throat, between creamy, supple breasts, and down to her flat abdomen. Emma's emerald eyes fluttered shut, and she rounded her back into the surprisingly gentle touch.

Emma cried out when she felt the first contact—warm, wanting, wet kisses fluttering briefly over her naked breasts. Regina kissed the underside of Emma's breast and slowly traced a line to her nipple with the tip of her tongue. Emma gasped at the sudden sensation as Regina's tongue lashed against the sensitive bud before she took Emma's nipple gently between her teeth. Her tongue flicked the jumbled nerves back and forth from within the humid cavern of her open mouth. Emma arched her back even more, holding Regina's mouth tight against her breast, crying out into the room.

Emma lifted her hips off the bed, straining for more contact. Rather than grind down against her, Regina undulated with her, denying the other woman's unspoken plea. Instead, she selfishly reveled at the sight of the frustrated woman pinned beneath her.

Emma began to whimper from frustration. "Please, Regina," she pled.

Regina took her time, running her palms over tender, flawless thighs. She dug her thumbs in and watched Emma come undone. She should have relented, should have given in to the overwhelming desire to lean in and run her tongue along the length of Emma's folds. But she didn't want this to be over. She wanted to make this last in case it was an experience limited to only that night.

She ran her hands up the length of Emma's pale, inner thighs until her fingertips rested on the other woman's hipbones and her thumbs brushed against far more sensitive skin at the juncture between her legs. She kept her hands immobile, save for the rhythmic up and down motion of her thumbs. Her short thumbnails stroked along Emma's most vulnerable flesh.

Regina slid down to belly-button level and kissed and licked the bare skin, marveling at how her touch made Emma's stomach tighten to form enviously defined muscles. She slid lower still and leaned in to breath warm air against Emma's most sensitive parts. Emma moaned and her thighs tensed beneath Regina's hands.

Finally, Regina's fingers curled beneath the elastic waistband of Emma's underwear. She paused and stared into those deep, emerald eyes, silently asking permission. In answer, Emma's hips rose off the bed, and Regina held her breath as she pulled off Emma's remaining clothes.

Regina wet her lips, preparing herself for what she was about to do. "Brace yourself," she mumbled aloud. It was unclear if the warning was for Emma or for herself.

Regina breathed in deeply, overcome with Emma's scent. Tentatively, she inched her tongue closer to Emma's shaved, satin skin. She slipped her tongue along her outside folds, tasting the early desire that had accumulated there. She heard Emma sigh as she gently parted her lips and blew onto the exposed skin before sinking her tongue deep inside.

"Oh my God." Emma's hands immediately went to the back of Regina's head, forcing her tongue deeper into her wet sex. Regina nuzzled her nose against Emma's swollen clit, practically feeling her heartbeat through the tiny bundle of flesh.

Regina tightened her grip on Emma's upper thighs. The blonde was delicious, tangy and clean; her eyes practically rolled back into her head at the taste. She licked deeper, allowing Emma's arousal to coat her tongue and lips, and she hummed against her skin.

"Regina!" Emma cried when the other woman's tongue finally came into contact with her sensitive clit. Regina flicked her tongue against the tiny nub, causing Emma's hips to involuntarily cant toward the ceiling.

Emma's hips jerked and bucked. "Please, Regina. I need your fingers," she unabashedly begged.

Not wanting to waste anymore precious time, Regina ran her hand down Emma's stomach one final time before parting her lips with her fingers and sinking two digits deep inside. She glanced fleetingly up at Emma only to see the other woman bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Regina slowly withdrew her now-coated fingers, feeling Emma's inner walls quickly adjust to the intrusion. She lazily slid her fingers up and down Emma's slit, rubbing her arousal over the smooth skin. Regina pushed her fingers deep again and remained motionless while she captured her tiny bud between her lips.

Emma gasped. "Regina. Oh God. I'm so wet for you."

Regina withdrew her fingers and pushed them back in hard and began to attack Emma's insides with even and steady strokes. She could feel Emma's inner walls clamp tightly around her fingers, and the click of her wet sex filled the room.

Regina closed her eyes, freeing her mind of any misgivings. All that existed was the exquisite woman wrapped around her fingers and the burning ache between her own legs. She lapped and tongued Emma's clit while she continued to thrust her fingers in and out, while Emma's thighs quivered around her ears.

"I'm gonna…" Emma gasped suddenly. "I…I'm so…so…close. I—Oh, God. Don't stop, please don't stop," she rambled.

Regina removed her mouth for a moment and stared deep into Emma's pleading eyes. "That's it. Cum for me, Emma. Let yourself go," Regina coaxed as she quickened her strokes.

"God," Emma moaned. "Fuck. Fuck. It's so good. I can't…I…oh God. Oh yes. Your fingers. Yes, just like that," she chanted. Her body shook uncontrollably and she bounced around the bed, practically fucking herself on Regina's hand.

Regina took one last glance at the stunning woman on her bed. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, more to herself, and recaptured Emma's clit between her parted lips.

"Oh shit!" Emma cried. Her body jolted upright in bed. She grabbed Regina and placed gentle, but desperate pressure on the back of her head, while entangling her fingers in Regina's silken hair. "Regina," she panted. "I'm… Fuck!"

Regina looked up when she heard a soft thump to see Emma had fallen backwards onto the bed. Her eyes were closed tight, and her mouth was twisted into a small smile of satisfaction. She released the death-grip on Regina's now-tangled hair and breathed out a soft sigh.

Regina slowly and gently eased her saturated fingers out and soothed Emma's tender sex with small licks. She smiled serenely and wiped at her mouth with the aid of Emma's inner thighs. "Good?" she asked with only a mild amount of trepidation.

Emma flexed and curled her toes. "So good. _God._ Why didn't we do that sooner?"

Regina crawled up the bed shakily. Her arms were sore and heart thumped heavily in her chest. "I believe it might have something to do with you being a stubborn idiot, my dear."

"Shhhh," Emma mumbled. "Can't feel my legs. Words don't work either."

Regina pulled the tangled bed sheet up to cover them both. Emma reached for the woman who had completely unraveled her, hugging her tight to her now sweaty form.

Regina rested her head on Emma's bare chest and listened to the rhythmic lub-dubbing as her heart struggled to return to its normal beat. Without exchanging words, they simultaneously breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.

* * *

_Snow White leaned over the fallen body of her prince._

_Regina looked to Snow White in earnest. "This won't be in vain. We will get back to Storybrooke. We will defeat…" She trailed off as the one person they'd been trying to evade flew into her castle, perched on her broom—Zelena._

_The Wicked Witch of the West floated above the simmering cauldron that contained the Dark Curse. She cast her hand in the air and a green, shimmery material floated into the bubbling liquid._

" _Zelena." Regina spit out the name as though it left a bad taste in her mouth._

_"Did you really think you could enact Rumple's Dark Curse and I wouldn't know about it?" Zelena chirped, looking pleased with herself._

_"No, but I didn't really care," Regina snapped. "You're too late."_

_A look of disgust crawled onto Zelena's features. "Actually I'm not." She turned to Snow White, who remained on the marble floor with her unconscious husband. "I'm afraid you sacrificed your charming husband for nothing."  
_

_Snow White's eyes widened in regretful panic. "Regina, he can't die in vain," she breathed._

_Regina scowled. "She's bluffing. Once the curse is enacted it can't be stopped."  
_

" _I may not be able to stop it, but that doesn't mean I can't spice it up a bit." Zelena smiled. "How does a forgetting potion sound?"_

_Snow and Regina's attention flicked over to the expanding green cloud spilling out of the cauldron._

" _Mm, sorry," Zelena purred. "Did you need your memories in the new land? Were you planning to stop me? Or, for that matter recognize me?"_

_Snow White mustered what little hope she had left. "We'll find a way," she said in a voice of wavering defiance._

_"Without knowing any of this? I doubt it. You'll be too busy looking for your husband. You won't even know about his sacrifice. Just endlessly wondering where he could be," Zelena cruelly mocked, "always fearing the worst._

_Zelena regarded her half-sister with contempt. "Pay attention, sis._ This _is how you take away a happy ending."_

* * *

Regina's eyes snapped open and she sucked in a gasping breath.

Emma stirred beside her in bed. "What's wrong?" she rasped.

Regina's chest heaved as though she'd just run a great distance. "I remember," she announced. " _Everything."_ She threw the covers off of her naked body. "God damn it, Zelena," she cursed.

"Zelena?" The name sounded familiar, but it took a moment for Emma's sleep-addled brain to make the connection. "The midwife?"

Regina reached for the silk robe thrown over a high-backed chair in the bedroom. "She's my sister," she scowled as she pulled the robe around her body. "And she wants to ruin us all. More specifically, me."

* * *

 

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Emma watched from bed as Regina ran a brush through her hair with more aggression than was necessary. The former mayor stood in front of her vanity mirror and worked hastily to make herself presentable for the day.

"So you really think Zelena is your half-sister?"

"I don't think, I _know_ ," Regina spoke to Emma's reflection. "I don't know how or why, but I can remember everything about our missing time in Storybrooke."

Emma sat up slightly in bed, pinning the bed sheets against her naked torso. "Do you think you're the only one? Or did everyone get their memories back?"

"I have no idea, which is why we have to get ready and go find out."

Emma groaned in complaint. "What's the rush? The sun's not even up yet. Don't you want to hide out a little longer?"

The hand holding Regina's hairbrush froze mid-air when the Egyptian-cotton sheets slid down Emma's torso. "No," Regina lied.

A mischievous grin curled on Emma's wide, expressive mouth. "Are you sure?" The sheets slipped farther still to pool at her waist, revealing her naked breasts.

Before Regina could respond, the chime of the doorbell reverberated through the house. "What now?" she sighed.

Leaving the naked blonde behind in bed, Regina stormed downstairs, tightening the sash of her robe around her waist. Knowing better than to simply open the front door without knowing who was on the other side, she peered through a side window to see who was standing at her door.

When she recognized the woman on the other side of the door, she shut her eyes and breathed out her nose. God, just what she didn't need.

"It's late; what do you want?" she snapped as she pulled open the door. She let her annoyance go unchecked.

Mary Margaret rushed the entrance like a tackle going after the quarterback.

_How did she find out?_ Regina internally panicked. But her anxiety made way for confusion when she realized the arms thrown around her neck were hugging her, not strangling her.

"What are you doing?" Regina said in horror. She tried to peel the other woman off of her, but Mary Margaret was not to be denied.

"Regina! I remember," Mary Margaret gushed. "David, too. You saved us! You saved my family!"

"That's no reason to touch me," Regina continued to protest.

Mary Margaret paused in her adulation when she spotted movement inside of Regina's house. "Emma?" She let go of Regina and stood upright. She glanced between Regina—who wore only a robe—and her daughter who, while clothed, looked disheveled in clothes she'd worn the day before. "What are you doing here?"

Emma raked nervous fingers through her hair. She knew how she looked—like she'd been thoroughly fucked. "Uh, sleepover?"

"Miss Swan came over to discuss Henry's future. She had too much to drink," Regina said smoothly, "so I graciously let her sleep on the couch."

The confusion flickering on Mary Margaret's features turned to near-relief. Luckily, she didn't possess Emma's Super Power of being able to tell when she was being told a lie.

"So it was Zelena all this time," Mary Margaret said, getting back on track. "And masquerading as a midwife. Why would she do that?"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" Emma proposed.

"Whatever her motivations for getting close to you and the baby, it can't be good. We have the upper hand—she probably doesn't know our memories are back-but that advantage won't last forever," Regina said sagely. "Snow, you should go back to David. It's not safe for you to be on your own."

"Regina's right, Mom," Emma agreed. She could tell that Mary Margaret was about to protest her exclusion. "I know you want to be in the thick of things, but you've got to think about what's best for the baby."

Mary Margaret's lower lip trembled with emotion and then stiffened with resolve. She placed a protective palm over her distended abdomen. "I've always tried to do what I thought was best for my children," she defended.

Emma laid a hand on her mother's shoulder. "I know," she said gently, "which is why you can't be a part of this."

"I'm not going to let you two go in alone," Mary Margaret protested. "Zelena's too powerful."

"We won't," Emma assured her.

"I'll get contact Robin, Hook, and Ursula," Regina proposed. "Besides Emma and myself, they're our strongest fighters."

Mary Margaret continued to hesitate. "I don't like it. We should do more research before confronting her."

Regina sighed loudly. "Snow, will you watch after Henry?"

The pregnant woman's eyes widened. "Really?" she squeaked.

The words took great effort on Regina's part. "You and David are the only ones I trust to keep him safe if something happens to us."

Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears. She nodded her head.

"Great." Emma clapped her hands together. "Now that that's settled, Regina and I have some work to do. I'll drop off Henry at the loft in the morning."

The confusion returned to Mary Margaret's features. "Why don't you come back with me?" she proposed. "I'll drive you back if you still don't think it safe to drive."

"Regina and I should probably strategize," Emma said. "No time like the present, right?"

Mary Margaret returned her gaze to Regina, but the former evil queen's face showed no emotion.

"Okay. David and I will be at the loft, waiting for Henry."

With her mother's final goodbye, Emma shut the front door, resealing she and Regina inside.

"You seemed rather eager to get rid of your mother," Regina coyly observed.

Emma folded her arms across her chest. "Too much to drink, eh?"

"Would you rather I told the truth? To your mother? In explicit detail?" Regina threatened. "Because I assure you, Miss Swan, few things would give me greater pleasure—"

"How about _I_ give you pleasure instead?" Emma cut in. "Last night was pretty one-sided."

Regina felt her face grow hot. "If I had known you were going to pass out so quickly," she huffed to mask her discomfort, "I would have drawn out your orgasm."

"Is that so?" Emma challenged. "Because if memory serves me right, you were just as eager as me to get to the finish line."

A surge of something akin to electricity jolted down Regina's spine. She had long suspected intimacy with Emma might be like this. Here was a partner who could match her, step for step, barb for barb. But it was too late. They'd squandered their opportunity; Emma had made her decision.

"Emma, we have to confront Zelena."

Emma knew they couldn't sit on the knowledge that Zelena was responsible for their return and memory loss, but she wasn't ready to back down. She gripped Regina by her chiseled hipbones and pulled her flush against her body. The sash around Regina's waist loosened and the front of her robe fell open.

Emma leaned in. "Okay." She spoke so her words hit the side of Regina's neck. "We'll take care of Zelena, and then we can come back here so I can take care of you."

Regina hated how her body betrayed her. She wanted nothing more than to fall back into bed with this woman—or the kitchen, or the hallway, or any flat surface she could pin her against, really. "You're still planning on leaving."

At Regina's words, Emma's body language slipped from playful to defeated. She released Regina's waist, and her shoulders slumped forward. "Zelena's spell might be broken, but Henry still doesn't have his memories. I don't know if I can play hide and seek with him anymore, Regina."

"No. I understand," Regina clipped. "Nothing's changed."

* * *

Guilt sloshed around in the pit of Emma's stomach as she quietly climbed the back steps at Granny's. The sun would be up in a few hours, and she didn't quite know how to explain her prolonged absence to Henry. She'd never left him on his own like that, either, but when Regina had been kissing her way down her body, being a responsible mother had been shoved far from her thoughts.

She unlocked the door to their rented room as quietly as possible, but it didn't matter. Henry was still awake. He was sitting up in bed with the reading lamp on.

"Kid," Emma hissed in a whisper as she stepped into the room. "You should be asleep."

"I was waiting up for you. I was worried."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Where did you go?" Henry asked.

"To Regina's." Emma gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. "I had to tell her we're not staying," she explained. "It, uh, it took a little longer than I thought it would."

"She was upset?" Henry frowned.

Emma nodded. "It'll be okay though. She understands this is what's best for you. We've got to get you back to New York."

Henry chewed on his lower lip. "Oh. Okay."

"What ya got there?" Emma gestured to the ancient-looking tome Henry had clutched to his chest.

"A book."

"Oh, did Ms. France drop that off?"

"I don't know. It was the weirdest thing. I was getting ready for bed, and when I came out of the bathroom, the book was just sitting on the bed-like it had been waiting for me."

Henry pulled the book away from his chest to show his mother.

Emma swallowed her gasp. It was Henry's book—the book he'd shown her so many years ago to convince her that everyone in Storybrooke was a fairytale character.

Emma hadn't wondered about the book's whereabouts in their absence. She couldn't have remembered it when they were in New York because she didn't have any recollection of Storybrooke, and when they'd returned to Storybrooke, their plate had been too full. Mary Margaret had once briefly explained the book's genesis to her—it had appeared, seemingly out of thin air, when they'd needed it the most. And now it was back.

"They're fairy tales, but they're different," Henry unnecessarily explained. "And look at all these cool illustrations." He flipped deeper into the book and stopped on a colored drawing of the Evil Queen. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Regina's face—dark eyes and red painted lips—glared at her with disapproval from the linen page. Unthinking, Emma reached out and traced her fingers along the proud lines of Regina's illustrated face. She couldn't believe that she'd had such a hard time believing Henry's story before. It had been right in front of her the entire time. Just like Regina.

"Do you really want to leave this place, Ma?" came Henry's gentle question.

Emma remained silent, not because she didn't know the answer to Henry's question, but because the answer terrified her.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

**It's been far too long since I've updated this story – hopefully some of you are still interested in how it's going to end.**

* * *

There was something there—Regina could see it as plain as the nose on her face. She hollowed her cheeks as she leaned closer to the reflective glass and glared at the small, oblong-shaped, purple mark on the right side of her neck.

" _Swan_ ," she snarled to herself.

She should have known Emma would do something so juvenile and pedestrian as leaving a hickey.

She pulled back from the mirror. A glamour perhaps, or even an extra layer of liquid foundation would cover it up. Instead, she grabbed a blue and red silk scarf from the top drawer of her bureau and tied it around her neck.

A quiet, tentative knock on her open bedroom door had her spinning away from the mirror. Emma stood in the threshold.

"Yes?" Regina snapped in a too-sharp voice. She immediately heard the bite in her tone. It was reflexive, automatic, and unintended, but she didn't need to tell Emma that. None of this would matter in a short while after they confronted Zelena.

"Everyone's here." Emma's face was an emotionless mask. Regina hated it. She wanted to gather the other woman in her arms and peel away the defensive armor for which she knew she was responsible.

Regina curtly nodded. "I'll be down shortly."

Emma shoved her hands into the pockets of that God-forsaken red leather jacket and stalked away.

Regina wanted to call her back and shut out the rest of the world for one more day. She absently touched her fingertips to the side of her neck, feeling the love bite beneath the scarf. She wanted to find refuge within Emma's solid strength; she wanted to re-live the eager curiosity the other woman had exhibited in her bed the previous night.

But there wasn't time for that, she knew. They had to deal with her sister first.

* * *

The midwife resided at the edge of Storybrooke, nearly as far out as one could travel without crossing the town line. Skinny smoke from a stone chimneystack indicated someone was home and footprints trampled a clear line to and from a pole barn in the backyard to the main farmhouse.

Hook clenched the muscles in his jaw. "So we're just going to knock on the door and invite ourselves to tea?"

"We've been over this, Pirate," Regina growled. "This is going to take a little more finesse than what you're used to."

"Oh, I don't know," Ursula musically mused, "walking the plank would actually be pretty effective with this particular witch."

"We don't do that," Emma rejected.

"Right." Ursula rolled her eyes. "I keep forgetting we're the Good Guys now. That's still going to take some getting used to."

"I'm _still_ not used to it," Regina couldn't help grumbling.

"Robin, Hook, you two cover the back exits," Emma instructed. "Ursula, you can hang out by the barn."

Robin shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "I really think I should take the front with you and Regina. This woman—."

Regina laid a reassuring hand on his arm "—is no match for either Emma or myself, and especially not when our magic is combined."

Robin ran a hand over his stubbled chin. "I'd feel better if you'd just let me—."

"Listen, guy," Emma interjected, "I appreciate the chivalrous gesture, but we've really got Heroes and Saviors in aces around here. Now be a good little—."

"What Sheriff Swan _means_ to say," Regina cut in, "is that we really need you and Hook as the final line of defense. If Zelena is able to get past us, the element of surprise will be gone. You'll be our only hope."

Robin's eyes lit anew. "O-of course. I'm honored with the task, Madam Mayor. Pirate, shall we?"

Hook looked in disbelief between Emma, Regina, and the Outlaw. But for once he withheld his usual snarky comment and retreated with Robin to the backside of the fieldstone cottage.

"Last line of defense, eh?" Emma snorted. "Our only hope?"

"Men are delicate creatures, Miss Swan. If decades of ruling the people of Storybrooke has taught me anything, it's that egos need to be massaged to get what you want."

"Massaged," Emma echoed the word. "Is that what you call last night?"

"No," Regina curtly rejected. "Last night was the result of years of pent up anger and attraction and frustration finally overflowing and demanding release."

Emma's eyes visibly widened. "Oh." She certainly hadn't expected honesty. "Is your, uh, _reservoir_ , empty now?"

Regina began swiftly walking towards the farmhouse. "Not even close."

Emma struggled to keep up with Regina's brisk stride. "Regina, wait."

"No," Regina coolly tossed back.

Emma managed to snag Regina's elbow before they reached Zelena's front door. "We should talk about this," Emma tried to reason. "We can't confront Zelena when you're half-cocked and angry."

"That's where you're wrong, Miss Swan," Regina glowered. "That's _exactly_ what I plan to do." She opened her right hand and an orb of fire materialized over her gloved palm.

"What about the plan?" Emma knew she was grasping at straws.

"Screw the plan." Regina turned away from Emma and launched the fireball at Zelena's door. "The Wicked Witch of the West doesn't like water; let's see how she feels about a little fire."

The front door splintered into a million little pieces, and Regina strode through the gaping doorway with Emma close behind. "Oh, sis!" she called out, nearly gleeful with anger. "You've got visitors!"

Emma tried to grab Regina again, tried to rein her in, but she was only dismissed and shaken off.

Regina's spiked heels sounded loudly on the wooden floors as she explored the layout of the modest cottage. "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

"There's no one here, Regina," Emma decided. "It's time to retreat. And next time actually follow the plan."

Regina stood still, motionless and tense. "She's here," she murmured. "I can feel it."

A loud cry, a male voice shouting, filtered into the house.

"Hook and Robin!" Emma yelled.

The two women raced from the house into the backyard. Robin was flat on his back in the heavy snow. A trickle of bright red blood spilled from his forehead and onto the white snow. Zelena held Hook as hostage with his body as a human shield between their two parties. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle and his own hook was pressed against his throat.

Hook's eyes bulged in distress and he clawed at the hook with his remaining hand. "Bloody witch," he choked out, "enchanted my own sodding hook."

A peel of amused laughter bubbled up Zelena's throat. "I thought it a nice touch myself."

Regina opened her hand, producing another fireball. Hook made a louder choking noise as the hook dug deeper into his tender flesh.

"Ah, ah, little sister," Zelena cooed. "We can't have any of that."

"You can kill the pirate for all I care," Regina growled.

"Regina!" Emma exclaimed.

Regina rolled her eyes, but extinguished the ball of fire. "Fine!" she relented.

Hook's breathing became a little easier.

"Everyone has their memories back, Zelena," Emma proclaimed. "Whatever your plan was isn't going to work."

"So it would seem. My naturally curious nature would like to know how exactly you managed to break the curse, but I doubt my stomach would be able to handle it." Zelena curled her lip. "Cute scarf by the way, sis."

Regina's hand went to the side of her neck. With all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she hadn't taken the time to question why and how their memories had returned. Emma had once broken the original kiss with True Love's Kiss—was it possible that the Savoir had saved them again? Regina mentally shook herself. No. It was too much to hope fore. It was impossible.

"Don't think about it too hard, sis." Zelena seemed to peer into her thoughts. "Your head looks like it might twist off."

"Why are you here, Zelena?" Regina demanded. "What could you possibly hope to accomplish?"

"That same thing as you, dear sister. _Revenge._ " Zelena's eyes flashed."Finally getting what I want."

"And what exactly is it that you want?" Regina defiantly posed.

"Your Happy Ending." Zelena made a noise. "Unfortunately, my little pet wasn't able to keep _Em-ma_ away from you." She spit out Emma's name as though it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Walsh," Emma murmured.

Regina tugged the scarf at her neck. What did Emma and her Happy Ending have to do with each other? Her half-sister was a ranting mad woman.

"But since that little plan failed," Zelena mused in a sing-song voice, "I'll just have to kill you all."

Hook clawed more desperately at the pointed blade pressing harder into this throat. He gagged for air, and his face flushed deep red.

Zelena let out a noise, a surprised shriek. She grabbed at her own neck as a thick, purple tentacle wrapped around her neck and torso and squeezed.

Ursula slowly strolled out of the barn where she'd remained hidden and out of sight. "God, that woman loves to hear the sound of her own voice," she complained. "Regina, you two really _are_ related."

Regina's adrenaline level was still too high to come up with a witty retort. "Oh shut up, fish breath," she managed.

Ursula's lips twisted and she regarded the Wicked Witch. "Normally this would be the part of the story where I snap your neck," she wryly observed, "but apparently I'm one of the Good Guys now."

She looked to Emma and Regina for confirmation. "We're still the Good Guys, right?"

Emma couldn't help her laugh. "Last time I checked."

Ursula returned her attention to the struggling witch. "So instead of saying goodbye, I'll just say goodnight."

Her tentacle perceptibly tightened around the woman's neck, and with it, Zelena's eyes fluttered shut and her body sagged as she promptly passed out.

* * *

Emma stood in the hallway, just outside of the door to the apartment she'd once shared with Mary Margaret Blanchard. She leaned closer to the worn wooden door and heard the undeniable sound of laughter coming from the inside of the apartment. She knocked twice on the door and the laughter stopped.

David cautiously opened the door, but swung it all the way open upon seeing his daughter. Emma observed the silver sword clutched in his right hand; she wondered how David had managed to explain the weapon's presence to her son.

_Just another reason we have to leave this town_ , she thought to herself.

"So?" David's handsome features were etched in anxiety. Emma knew how hard it must have been for him to stay behind, but watching over Henry and his pregnant wife was a priority.

"It's done," Emma breathed. "Zelena's in custody."

David's body sagged in relief. "Thank God. Come in."

Emma didn't immediately spy Mary Margaret and her son until they walked out of the second bedroom. Mary Margaret had her hand on Henry's shoulder—a protective, maternal gesture.

"So it's over?" Mary Margaret asked, apparently having overheard Emma's words to David.

Emma nodded grimly. "Zelena's in custody. Regina arranged for her to be placed in solitary confinement in the psych ward under the hospital. We figured it would be safer than the jail cell until we decide what to do with her."

She kept her explanation brief and generalized for Henry's benefit. She didn't bother mentioning that Regina had also placed an enchanted cuff on Zelena that would prevent her from using magic. She could tell her parents those details later.

"Does this mean we're going back to New York now?" Henry asked.

A small cry bubbled up Mary Margaret's throat. She tried to swallow the sound, but it came out like a hiccup. She covered her mouth. "I have to—I'll just be a minute," she blurted out before rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

Henry looked perplexed. "Did I do something?"

"No, kid," Emma sighed. "Just pregnancy stuff, I'm sure."

David frowned. "I'm sure she'll be okay."

"Henry and I should get going," Emma stated. "We've got to pack up our things at Granny's." _And say a whole lot of goodbyes._

Henry bobbed his head. "Let me just grab my book." He raced up the metal spiral staircase to the bedroom above.

"You're sure about this?" David asked once Henry was out of earshot. "You're sure you want to leave your family again?"

"Henry doesn't remember any of this or any of you," Emma tried to explain. "And we might have curbed Zelena for now, but you know she's not going to be the last _complication_ this town has. How am I going to explain to Henry when an ogre decides to go for a walk down Main Street?"

"You could always try the truth," David noted. "You didn't believe any of the things in Henry's storybook at first, either."

Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I just want what's best for my son."

David offered an easy smile. "That's because you're a great parent."

Henry's loud, teenaged feet pounded noisily down the metal stairs. "Got it!" he proclaimed, sounding nearly out of breath.

Emma's eyes narrowed as she regarded the book he'd gone back for—the oversized, leather tome of fairytales. "Why'd you bring that over here?"

Henry looked down at his book and shrugged. "I dunno. It just felt like the right thing to do."

Emma hazarded a glance at her father, who only arched an eyebrow in response. She knew what he wanted her to do.

"Henry, sit down. There's something you need to hear. It has something to do with this place. And it has to do with Regina." She paused and made a face. "Damn it, I don't even know where to start."

Henry grinned. "How about at the beginning?"

Emma regarded the old book of fairytales her son held on his lap. She took a deep breath and began. "Okay. Once upon a time . . . "

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Another one! Thanks to all of you still invested in this story!**

* * *

Regina stood over the kitchen sink with spoon in hand. She tore the cardboard top off of the cylinder-shaped ice cream tub and held the spoon, poised and ready for the attack. Normally she avoided such vices, sticking to a strict diet and exercise regime, particularly because she was starting to age again, but the events of the past few days-weeks really-had driven her to this point. It was either ice cream or the glass decanter of bourbon in her study, which as she thought about, would probably receive a visit that night as well.

Zelena had been defeated and the blissfully ignorant people of Storybrooke were safe again, yet she couldn't get her busy brain to quiet. The mad rantings of a crazy woman—her half-sister—replayed in her mind.  
  
_She certainly doesn't come from the sane half of my family_ , she remarked to herself.  
  
Zelena's misguided belief that Emma Swan had anything to do with her Happy Ending was evidence of that.  
  
Regina stabbed her spoon into the center of the new carton of ice cream, but before she could fish out the first oversized bite, the front doorbell rang. Its melodic chimes echoed through the empty house—a house that was fated to always be empty.  
  
Regina scowled at the interruption, but stomped to the front door to investigate. Her frown deepened when she peered out the peephole. _Why on earth was Emma Swan at her front door again?_  
  
She glanced quickly at her reflection in the mirror that hung in her foyer and ran a self-conscious hand through her raven dark hair. Her makeup was nearly gone, save for the perpetual red stain on her lips, and she thought her hair looked a little flat, but she looked presentable enough—certainly good enough for her annoying sheriff.

She mentally shook herself. She needed to stop thinking that way. Emma wasn't _her_ anything.  
  
Regina schooled her emotions and opened the door. Emma stood before her, blonde waves tumbling past her shoulders, wearing her standard uniform of painted-on jeans and a fitted Henley top that hugged the curves on her slender, muscled arms. Emma worried her lower lip—a lip Regina desperately wanted to suck and bite on.  
  
She cleared her throat to clear her mind. "Yes? What do you want?"  
  
 _Say me._  
  
Emma rocked back and forth in her leather knee-high boots. "I told Henry."  
  
"You'll have to be a little more specific than that, Miss Swan." Regina folded her arms across her chest, closing off her body language. The sooner she shooed Emma away, the sooner she could return to eating her emotions.  
  
"I told him the truth about this place. About me. About you."  
  
Regina's armor of stoicism slipped. "Y-you did?" Her voice pitched up. "What did he say?"  
  
"That I needed psychiatric help," Emma admitted with a sheepish grin. "But then we went through his book, story by story, and I made connections to everyone in town. He still doesn't believe it, but he hasn't had me committed either, so I guess that's a good sign."  
  
Regina tucked her lower lip between her top and bottom rows of teeth. "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Because I realized there's nothing in New York. I thought going back would be the best thing for him, but Storybrooke is Henry's home. This is where he belongs."  
  
Regina swallowed hard. "Emma, are you sure?" Her emotions felt tattered and worn.  
  
Emma held her hands out at her sides. "His family is here. You're here."  
  
"And what about you?" Regina posed. "Are you planning on sticking around as well?"  
  
The corner of Emma's mouth twitched. "I dunno. If you'll have me. I hear there's a vacancy in the police department."  
  
Regina cut short whatever else Emma had planned to say with a bruising kiss. She launched forward and crashed her mouth, teeth, and jutting hipbones against Emma's unsuspecting form.  
  
Emma needed little time to recover, however. Her hand traveled up the back of Regina's neck and her fingers slipped through silk-soft hair as she reciprocated the urgent kiss.  
  
Regina found herself being waltzed backwards deeper into her home. The front door closed, yet neither woman had relinquished their hold on the other. She tried not to dwell on the scuff mark Emma's boots had no doubt left behind in her effort to shut the door. The charge was made all the easier by the nimble fingers deftly working the smooth buttons at the front of her Oxford shirt.  
  
Emma pulled back, gasping for air. "Just so we're clear, I didn't do this because I thought it might ... you know."  
  
Regina arched an eyebrow. "Get in my pants?"  
  
Emma nodded. "Uh huh."  
  
"I've said nothing about you getting in my pants, Miss Swan," Regina smirked, "but I have every intention of getting into yours."  
  
Regina grabbed the bottom hem of Emma's navy blue top and tugged it up and over her head. Her curly locks spilled free of the garment and laid softly against her defined collarbone, the ends just hitting the tops of her creamy breasts in their black, lacy bra.  
  
"Magnificent," Regina couldn't resist murmuring.  
  
Emma had no opportunity to demure or deflect before Regina was unfastening the top button of her skin-tight jeans and slamming down the zipper.

* * *

Emma couldn't believe the day she was having. She'd confronted and defeated the Wicked Witch of the West, had told her son that he had two moms and that everyone he'd met in Storybrooke was a fairytale character, and now she was naked in Regina Mills' bed.  
  
Regina had wasted little time in pulling Emma upstairs to her bedroom where they'd so recently spent an evening together. The bed was still unmade, and both of their clothes were strewn across the floor.  
  
Regina laid beside her, her back propped up on a pillow. Her hair was tussled and her lipstick gone, and Emma thought she'd never looked more beautiful.  
  
"Why did you do it?"  
  
"Well you did it to me first, and I didn't want to be a selfish lover," Emma said. "And I was curious about the taste-."  
  
Regina delicately coughed. She felt an unfamiliar blush creep onto the apples of her cheeks. She was hardly the blushing School Girl Type, but there was something about Emma that made her feel rejuvenated. Reborn.  
  
"Not that. I meant why did you tell Henry the truth about this place?"  
  
"Oh...to be honest, it was my dad's idea," Emma revealed. "Honesty being the best policy and all that."  
  
"Prince Charming to the rescue," Regina muttered. "Not that anything has changed; Henry still doesn't have his memories back."  
  
Emma fiddled with Regina's long, tapered fingers. "He'll get there—just like I did."  
  
A small smile curved on Regina's mouth. "You really think so?"  
  
"Hey, stranger things have happened."  
  
"Like you being in my bed?"  
  
Emma's normally pale cheeks colored, and she ducked her head. "Maybe."  
  
Regina reached out and curled a blonde tendril around and around her finger. "Emma-" she started, only to be interrupted by the shrill jangle of her landline. "Ugh, who could that be at this hour?"  
  
"I can't believe you still have a landline," Emma teased. "It's so retro."  
  
"I created this town in the Eighties. Be happy your mother isn't wearing a side ponytail and stirrup pants."  
  
Emma laughed at the imagery, but her laughter fell short when Regina silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips.  
  
Regina lifted the receiver from its cradle and held the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she growled.  
  
Emma poked her tongue at the digit still flattened against her mouth.  
  
Regina lightly swatted the naked woman in her bed, and paused to listen to the panicked voice on the other end of the phone call. "Calm down, David. Everything's going to be fine."  
  
She arched a skinny eyebrow and couldn't hold back the smug smile. "Emma? You can't find her? You've been calling her phone, and you've called Granny's?"  
  
Emma leaned over the edge of the bed and snatched her jeans from the floor. Her cellphone was lodged in the back pocket, but she'd had the ringer turned off. She wrinkled her nose at the multiple missed calls.  
  
"Don't worry," Regina assured the man, "I'll locate her and tell her right away. Yes. I'll see you shortly. And tell Mary Margaret to calm down, too. I can hear her ranting in the background."  
  
Regina hung up the phone, and Emma looked to her expectantly. "What is it? What's wrong? What are you supposed to tell me?"  
  
"Your mother's water broke. Baby Charming's on his or her way."

* * *

"Hey, little man. I'm your sister."  
  
Emma stared in wonder at the tiny, bundled miracle she held in her arms. Giant, unfocused blue orbs stared up at her from beneath the miniature blue knit cap atop the newborn's head. Emma had been terrified to hold the new baby, certain she would do something to accidentally break him, but Mary Margaret had insisted.  
  
"Guys, he's perfect," she proclaimed.  
  
She and Regina had arrived at the hospital soon after receiving David's phone call. Mary Margaret had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Now, an exhausted but happy Mary Margaret reclined in her hospital room, surrounded by friends and family.  
  
"Stop bogarting the baby, Miss Swan," Regina chastised. "Other people are waiting for their turn."  
  
"Hey, I'm just making up for lost time," Emma defended. She'd never really gotten the opportunity to hold Henry after he'd been born, but she didn't need to bring that up and make the otherwise joyous moment awkward  
  
A quiet knock pulled her attention to the doorway where Henry stood, staring down at his feet. Belle's smiling face appeared behind his shoulder. "Hey, everybody," she greeted the room.  
  
"Belle! Henry!" Mary Margaret exclaimed. "Come on in!"  
  
Henry stepped inside, encouraged by Belle's hands in the center of his back.  
  
Emma gently bounced the baby in her arms. "Hey, kid. Want to meet your uncle? Thanks for bringing him, Belle."  
  
"Of course," the pretty librarian bobbed her head. "It gives me a good excuse to meet the new Prince, too."  
  
"Prince," Henry echoed. "So I guess all that stuff you told me is true."  
  
Emma frowned. She knew it was a lot to take in at once. "Every word, kid."  
  
Regina swallowed hard. She felt nervous and anxious, unsure how to behave around her own son now that he knew who she was. "Hello, Henry."  
  
"Hi ... Mom," he said.  
  
"It's okay. You-you don't have to call me that if it doesn't feel right."  
  
"I wish I could remember you," Henry said in earnest.  
  
"I know, dear. But don't put too much stress on yourself about it," Regina coaxed. "None of this is your fault."  
  
Henry nodded soberly. "Can I hold my-my uncle?"  
  
Mary Margaret's smile was so large and so wide, her eyes had become tiny slits. "Of course, Henry."  
  
Emma gently handed the infant to her son and helped rearrange his arms to best cradle the newborn.  
  
With the newborn secure in Henry's arms, Emma slid beside Regina. "So I was thinking," she said in a quiet tone meant only for Regina's ears.  
  
"Always a dangerous prospect, Sheriff," Regina mused.  
  
Emma ignored the jibe, but only because she was so nervous about what she needed to ask Regina. "My parents' apartment is going to be pretty crowded now with the baby. And Henry and I can't stay at Granny's forever."  
  
"You're feeling a little homeless, I gather," Regina anticipated. "And you've outgrown living in that horrid yellow car."  
  
"And you've got a big house."  
  
"The biggest one in town, I'm told." Regina's painted mouth twisted. "What is it that you're asking, Emma?"  
  
Emma shuffled his feet. "Maybe Henry could go back to his old bedroom, and I can pay you rent for a guest room?"  
  
"You're not going to pay me rent, Emma. That's ridiculous."  
  
"I'm not a freeloader, Regina. And I can't—I can't just start living with you. That's like Relationship 101 stuff."  
  
Regina arched an amused eyebrow. "So you want to have a relationship with me, Miss Swan?"  
  
Emma scowled. "You're making this very difficult for me."  
  
"As if you've ever made anything easy for me," Regina shot back.  
  
"Fine!" Emma threw up her hands in frustration. "Forget I ever said anything."  
  
"Emma," Regina said, this time more gently as she tried to pacify the other woman. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease."  
  
"It's too late. The moment is over."  
  
"Stop being so stubborn, Swan." Regina grabbed onto the lapel of the leather jacket she hated and loved at the same time—much like the woman who wore it—and tugged Emma in for an aggressive, crushing kiss.  
  
Emma made a noise, initially out of surprise, which turned into a throaty groan when Regina swapped her tongue across her lower lip. She only pulled away when she heard a quiet cough.  
  
The entire room had gone silent. Even the baby in Henry's arms seemed to stare.  
  
Mary Margaret looked wide-eyed between Regina and her daughter. "What-what's going on?"  
  
"What's going on, Snow, is that your daughter and I are sleeping together," Regina said in a far too reasonable voice.  
  
Mary Margaret hiccuped.  
  
"What Regina _means_ to say," Emma quickly jumped in, "is that we're tentatively dating. And since we're at the early stages of a relationship, we'd appreciate your support, patience, and open-mindedness while we figure out what this thing is."  
  
"I do _not_ date," Regina scoffed. "I'm not a fourteen-year-old girl."  
  
"You _do_ date," Emma insisted with equal stubbornness, "and you're dating _me_."  
  
"This just keeps getting wilder and wilder," Henry mumbled.  
  
Regina worried her lower lip. "Henry, if it's too much-"  
  
"No way. You've sacrificed enough for me. Like how you always let me eat the last piece of apple pie even when I know it's your favorite. I'm not going to get in the way of your happiness."  
  
Regina blinked once. "Wait-how do you know about that?" That wasn't a memory from the storybook and there was no way Emma should have known about that to be able to tell their son.  
  
Henry shook his head. "I-I have no idea. I was just looking at the baby and thinking about how weird it was that I have an uncle who's a baby and that my grandma is Snow White, and then you two were kissing and suddenly it was like this rush of images came at me like I was watching a movie, only it wasn't a movie, they were my memories."  
  
Mary Margaret gasped from her hospital bed. "True Love's Kiss."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Regina snapped. "There's no way that I-that would mean-." She turned helplessly to Emma for backup.  
  
Emma's mouth curved into a peculiar smile. "That you love me."  
  
TBC


	24. Epilogue

"Henry!" Regina called up the stairs. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't leave your shoes on the staircase."

Henry poked his head out of his bedroom. "Sorry, Mom."

Despite the annoyance, Regina felt a tug on her heartstrings. Mom. In all her years as the Evil Queen it was the one name she could never have predicted she’d ache to be called.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and a chin came to rest on her shoulder. "They're just shoes, Regina." 

Regina spun around in her girlfriend's arms. "Shoes today, backpacks tomorrow. It's a slippery slope, my dear."

Emma grinned broadly. 

"What?" Regina questioned.

"I was just thinking how much I used to hate when you called me Dear. But now I love it. Just. Like. You." She peppered the end of Regina's nose with kisses to punctuate her words.

"Just remember who said it first," Regina returned.

"Maybe we ask my parents to take Henry this weekend?" Emma's voice lilted up hopefully.

"With the new baby? In that shoebox of an apartment?" Regina pointed out. "You must really want to punish your mother."

Emma stuck out her lower lip in a practiced pout. "I thought you'd be into it."

"Punishing Snow White or having an uninterrupted sex marathon with her daughter?" 

Emma shrugged. "Both?"

"Patience, my love," Regina soothed. "Relationships are a marathon. Not a sprint."

As Emma continued to display her bottom lip, and Regina resisted the urge to take it between her teeth and tug. She'd been doing a lot of resisting her urges over the past few weeks, all having to do with the fact that once she'd had sex with Emma Swan, she didn't want to stop. But for the health of their nascent relationship, and so their son wouldn't have to spend his adult years in therapy, she'd done her best to behave.

"Henry!" Emma yelled up to the second floor. "Your shoes are still on the stairs!"

Despite her penchant for having things be tidy and orderly and just so, Regina loved the noise and chaos and life that having Henry and Emma living with her brought.

"Remember that roadside motel on our way back to Storybrooke?" Emma posed. "You mentioned something when we stayed there that's been stuck in my head ever since."

"I can't even imagine what that might be," Regina drolly said. "Tell me, what can't you get out of your head?"

Emma's eyeshadow glittered with mischief. "When are you gonna go camping with me?"


End file.
